In Search of a Hero
by griffonnage
Summary: After John André's hanging in Tappan, NY, General Lafayette goes on a solo soulsearching mission north much to the distress of his friends including the Yankee Doodle Society.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** In Search of a Hero (October 1780)

**Author:** DoodleScribe

**Rating:** PG

**Disclaimer:** The Yankee Doodle Society, Captain Yankee Doodle, and all recognizable fictional characters from the TV series "The Young Rebels" do not belong to me. See the Disclosure on this site for additional information. The characters are borrowed for the purpose of entertaining fans of the show with no intention of copyrighting, publishing beyond this site, or monetary gain. However, the story itself belongs to me and should not be copied, printed or posted elsewhere, or used for any purpose other than reading. This story is fiction. Any apparent relationship to real people (other than historical figures) is unintended and purely coincidental.

**Genre:** Drama

**Summary:** After John André's hanging in Tappan, NY, General Lafayette goes on a solo soul-searching mission north much to the distress of his friends including the Yankee Doodle Society.

**Authors Note:** This is fan fiction based on the 1970 TV series The Young Rebels which is set during the American Revolutionary War. Click on the author's name to send your comments. Comments are welcome, including constructive criticism.

* * *

**Chapter 1 **

The young dark haired officer walked away with a quick determined stride from the hanging of John André, heavy hearted and with a growing anger for Benedict Arnold. Detained at the site of the hanging all afternoon by other officers and citizens who wanted to talk about Arnold's treason, he did not want to talk about it anymore. It was all he could do not to break into a run. After several days sitting as a judge in André's trial, he had heard about as much as he could stand. He made his way back to the inn in the small quaint town of Tappan, New York. As he walked in the door, there was a crowd of people in the tavern that stood up and started asking questions, "Sir, has Arnold been captured? What is Washington going to do now that his plans are in British hands?"

The young officer tried to be patient as he made his way to the stairs that led to the rooms above. He climbed a couple of steps and turned. His tried to look apologetically at the crowd. They quieted waiting for him to speak. In a soft refined French accent he said, "Please my friends, I can not answer your questions. I am sorry. You know as much as I do at this point."

He looked into the disappointed faces of the people; many looked back at him with concern and understanding. One man reached up and slapped him on the back. "Son, we are all thankful you are with us. We know you left your young family to come back to this bloody war when you didn't have to. Don't you worry. That traitor, Benedict Arnold, will be found and hanged. Americans don't forget those who betray them, they hunt them down!"

The other people cheered. "Hooray! Lafayette! Our Marquis!"

Lafayette smiled at the man whose words were obviously heart-felt. It seemed like, at times, the whole population of the country had adopted him as he had so eagerly adopted them. Suddenly he felt terribly homesick. He excused himself and hurried up the stairs lest the stoic Americans see his French tears. When he got to his room, two of his aides were waiting for him. They immediately knew something was wrong. He could not hide his emotions from them.

"Mon Zhen-ay-RAL, what's dee mat-TARE?" Colonel Gimat said in broken English. The young French aide had been with Lafayette since he first came to America and had returned with him on his second trip.

Lafayette smiled at the sound of the heavy French accent, which matched his own when he first came to this country. "Nothing, Joseph. Please go find me some civilian clothes."

"_Certainment._" Gimat hurried out of the room to obey his commander's wish.

Lieutenant Grayson, a red-haired blue-eyed man, sat on the bed. His stern face gave away the direction of his thoughts. "General, are you planning an excursion out of town?"

The general did not want to lie, but he had to get out of Tappan, out of his role as Major General Lafayette, and he knew his aides would do everything to stop him if he told them his true plans. "Yes, John, I am meeting a friend. It is not dangerous, but I do not want to take any chances since we found one British agent behind our lines there may be more."

"It's not the British agents but the Cow Boys I'm worried about."

"There is no need to worry. The Cow Boys and Skinners are between the lines. I am not going anywhere near the frontline."

"What should I tell General Washington who is expecting you for supper at the Hadley's home?"

Lafayette had forgotten. Without looking at the lieutenant, he said, "Just tell him something came up. I will see him tomorrow."

The lieutenant clearly was not buying his general's cover. "I should probably not let you do this, sir, as head of your life guard. I can see that you are not yourself—"

Just then, Gimat returned with the requested civilian clothes. Black pants, a heavy woolen navy blue short coat, and a black tri-corn hat that was clearly too big. "Weel theese doo mon Zhen-ay-RAL?"

"Yes, of course. Thank you, Joseph. You two go to supper."

The lieutenant stood and walked to the door behind Gimat. "You will be careful, General?"

General Lafayette stopped in the middle of undressing, and met the soft blue concerned eyes of his lieutenant. He felt a pain of guilt. "Yes, of course, John. Please do not tell anyone, especially Sergeant Boggs. You know how protective he is of me."

"Yes, I do, sir. That's why I am having a hard time letting you do this."

Lafayette looked down at the blue and buff coat in his hands. He ran his slender fingers over one of the gold epaulet, which had two stars sewn into it. His loyal lieutenant was just trying to do his job. "I need some time alone away from all of this. I shall be fine tomorrow. Please do not worry."

The lieutenant looked at his young general for a moment, and then a smile crept over his face. Lieutenant Grayson was a good ten years older then Lafayette, a fact that normally went unnoticed by either man. The age difference suddenly came to Lafayette's mind as he waited for the lieutenant to let him run off like a spoiled child. The lieutenant said, "Now, I believe you. I can understand the pressure this has brought upon you as well as the other generals. Arnold's treason hurts a great deal…"

"_Oui_, but we will survive. All of us." Lafayette tried to give his aide his usual look of confidence hoping he would accept that.

"I suppose you get tired of all of us now and then. If it will help you to 'get away', as you say, than I will accept that. Please sir, just be very careful. You are a very important symbol of this cause."

The general smiled, relieved that he had accomplished his goal. "Merci, John. You are a good friend."

The lieutenant walked out and closed the door leaving the general alone. Lafayette sat down on the bed and hung his head. His lieutenant's words, 'a very important symbol of this cause', hung in the air around him. He had been told that continuously since the day he was found with a bullet wound in his leg at Brandywine.

Suddenly the tears came that he had been holding back for several days, ever since seeing General Washington depressed at the sudden shocking news of Arnold's betrayal. Lieutenant Grayson was right, he was not himself. He was only the shell of the man that was Major General Lafayette. The man that he admired as the hero of Saratoga had betrayed him and the great cause of Liberty. He had never failed to give Arnold credit for winning that battle to anyone that would listen, including Arnold. He had counted him a friend. The treason was unthinkable, it was personal, and it felt like a knife twisted into his heart. Most of all, it had brought the man he most admired, General Washington, to tears of despair.

Lafayette broke down and began to sob, uncontrollably. He wrapped his arms around his chest trying to stop the shaking. During the trial, he had learned that Arnold had betrayed the French fleet at Newport. He had told Arnold where and when the fleet was to arrive in America. He had been so proud to share that information with Arnold, the greatest field general of the war. Now he knew that two hundred of his fellow countrymen were dead because he had given Benedict Arnold that information.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. The general quickly wiped his eyes and tried to return to his calm exterior. "Who is it?" He was disappointed with his weak voice.

"A courier from General Wayne, sir."

"Tell me what it says."

"Yes, sir. General Wayne says that a Jeremy Larkin is at his camp and is trying to find you. He says it is urgent, sir. General Wayne wishes a reply from you so that he might send Larkin and his men to you."

_Mon Dieu_, _not the Yankee Doodle Society. What are they doing here so far from Chester?_ He didn't want them to see him like this. "Tell General Wayne that I will not be able to see them today. I have engagements. Tell him...I will come to his camp as soon as I can."

"Yes, sir."

Lafayette listened as the steps made by the courier's heavy riding boots receded down the corridor. He took a deep breath, stood up and finished changing into the civilian clothes. When he was finished, he looked in the mirror and found that he looked like a young sailor on leave. He decided that would be his cover. After checking his pistol to see that it was loaded, he stuck it in his belt, grabbed the small powder horn, dropped some cartridges in his pocket, and then blew out the lamps in the room. Then he slowly opened the door and looked up and down the corridor. It was empty. He quickly stepped out, closed the door quietly, and then crept to the back stairs that led to the alley out back of the inn. He hurried down the stairs and outside into the early evening.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Jeremy, Henry and Isak, the three young friends that made up the Yankee Doodle Society, were standing outside General Wayne's headquarters tent when the courier returned that he had sent to find Lafayette. They watched as the general first listened attentively, then pulled his hat off and scratched his dark head with a perplexed look on his face, and then began to berate the young courier. The trio of friends strained to hear the general's words over the parading and exercising of a troop of soldiers nearby. Jeremy said, "Looks like Lafayette was not found."

"That would just be our luck," Henry said, "to come all this way and find that General Lafayette just left for Pennsylvania!"

"Henry," Isak said, "must you start complainin' before you even know the facts?"

Henry looked irritably over his spectacles at his tall dark negro friend. It had been a long hard trip from Chester through British territory to New York and each man's little foibles weighed on the other's normally agreeable natures. The portly Henry shivered, pulled his coat collar up, flapped his arms, and stomped his feet, but held his tongue.

"I guess it was a bit of a risk," Jeremy said, "but the information was too important to just sit on it with all the generals here in New York."

The general dismissed the courier, slapped his hat on his thigh, and then pulled it down on his head angrily. He marched back to the trio waiting near his tent. "Boys, I'm afraid you are out of luck today. It seems General Lafayette is tied up. I don't understand it. The hanging of John André should have put an end to the festivities in town. He told the courier that he would come here as soon as he could, but it won't be this evening."

The young men looked dejected. Jeremy said, "Well at least we know he is in Tappan."

The general looked at the disappointed faces. "I agree with you that the news you have is important to the current situation with Arnold, but I have orders to stay here and defend this fortification. General Washington is expecting a full-fledged attack by the British anytime now. The whole army is on full alert."

"We understand, sir," Jeremy said. "It's just that the information we have is time sensitive. If no action is taken, some very important agents for the British are going to escape capture."

The general crossed his arms, rested his chin in his hand and stared at the ground for a moment. Then he put his fists on his hips and suddenly came to life. In a husky cant that was a cross between backwoodsman and river pirate he said, "Oh what the heck! Come on boys, let's ride to Tappan and see what all the fuss is about that's keepin' General Lafayette so occupied. Maybe they're havin' a party and they forgot to invite us." The general grinned wide, which made his handsome brown eyes twinkle. "It's the least I can do for some fellow Chester Countians."

Jeremy smiled at Isak and Henry and they dashed to their saddled horses. The general called for his horse and it wasn't long before they headed south to Tappan at a fast gallop.

* * *

They found very little activity when they slowed their horses on the cobblestone main street of the town. There was no evidence of festivities or a party. The street was quiet except for a few soldiers milling about. 

"Come on, boys, I think General Lafayette is at the one inn in town. Let's go see if we can find one of his aides."

The four men rode up to an old stone inn. There was a tavern on the ground floor, which was all lit up. A glance through the multi-paned windows showed them it was very busy. An old painted sign swung and creaked overhead. It was adorned with a worn painting of an old style ship in full sail. As they opened the door they were greeted by warmth, lots of noise and a friendly barmaid who said, "Well, if it ain't the one and only General Anthony Wayne! I thought they were keepin' you out o' town to protect us defenseless young gals!" The girl laughed showing dimples in her young pink cheeks.

General Wayne stood a good foot over the girl. He put his arm around her shoulders. "Sally, THEY will fail to keep General Anthony Wayne away from what he desires, but not for want of tryin'." He laughed with the girl. "Have you seen any of General Lafayette's aides around here, or the Marquis himself?"

Sally wrinkled her brow. "The Marquis was here earlier and was toasted all around. My, how these people love that boy! I haven't seen him since. There's a couple of his aides over there. She pointed across the dining room towards the fireplace.

"Thank you, Sally." The general strode across the room with an affected pirate's swagger, which made Jeremy and his friends want to laugh. They managed to keep their laughter in check, realizing it was for the benefit of Sally. The general was soon upon Lieutenant Grayson and Colonel Gimat who were each holding a tankard of ale. The men stood and saluted. Wayne returned the salute and motioned for them to be seated.

"You boys have the evening off or what?" Wayne asked.

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant said.

"Can you tell me where General Lafayette might be hiding?"

The lieutenant shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry, your guess is as good as mine, sir."

General Wayne frowned and crossed his arms over his big chest. "You don't say? Isn't that a little odd for General Lafayette not to inform you of his whereabouts?"

"Zhen-ay-ral Wayne, he left without telling us where he eez going."

General Wayne said. "Colonel Gimat, that's where he 'was' going, not 'is' going."

Gimat shrugged. "Excuse-moi, mon Anglesh, Zhen-ay-ral."

Wayne grinned at the young colonel and slapped him on the back knocking him forward against the table. "You know what Gimat, you are such a damn good line officer, you say it any way you want. I sure got no business playing school marm." The general laughed at his own joke.

Gimat sighed. "Merci, mon Zhen-ay-ral." Gimat looked past General Wayne and saw the trio of young men and said with surprise, "Jeremy, Henri, Isak, so far away from home?"

The lieutenant stood, knocking his chair over, equally as surprised at the sight of the three young men. "Oh my…" The lieutenant shook his head. "I guess the general forgot you were coming--"

"Nay, Lieutenant," Jeremy said, "we just got here this afternoon. He is not expecting us."

"Oh, I see," the lieutenant said, clearly relieved.

General Wayne shot a squinted glance at the lieutenant. "John Grayson, you are keeping something from me. Come on now. Tell me where that young Frenchman is. You know more than you're tellin'." The general glared at the lieutenant until he dropped his head.

"Sir, the general…he left early this evening in civilian clothes. He would not tell me where he was going."

General Wayne's eyes widened in surprise. In his affected brogue, and louder than necessary, he said, "Well, if we were talkin' about that rapscallion Charles Lee, or Lord Stirling when he's havin' a 'bout with the bottle, I'd have an idea what that meant, but we're talkin' about the 'honorable to a fault' General Lafayette! Does General Washington know about this sudden disappearance?"

The lieutenant looked timidly at the overbearing general. "He knows he didn't show up to a supper he was supposed to attend with his Excellency."

"He even skipped out on an engagement with General Washington?"

General Wayne turned to his three young companions and said with a smirk, "Well, don't feel slighted boys. Apparently you're in good company."

The three young men smiled, but there expressions were a mixture of amused, confused…and worried.

General Wayne turned to the lieutenant. "Did he seem upset to you?"

The lieutenant was obviously uncomfortable answering Wayne's questions. He squirmed under the steady gaze of the general to the point that he looked like a captured spy under interrogation. "He had just come from the hanging, sir. He did not seem himself, but I can't tell you exactly what was bothering him or…"

General Wayne seemed to respond to the unease of the lieutenant. His expression mellowed as he put his hand on the lieutenant's shoulder and said calmly, "It's all right, John. He probably asked you not to say anything and here I am wringing it out of you. I'm sorry. Will you tell me how he was dressed?"

Gimat said, "Noir pantalon, bleu manteau court, noir chapeau…"

"Very good, Gimat." Wayne said. "Now, what did he just say, Lieutenant?"

"Black pants, blue coat, black hat…sir."

The general turned around to address Jeremy, Henry and Isak. "Come, I think we need to pay a visit to General Greene."

Wayne hurried out of the tavern with the trio trotting behind him. General Wayne was clearly a man on a mission. Jeremy said, "Sir, do you think General Lafayette is in some kind of trouble?"

"Trouble?" The general chuckled and threw up his hands. Jeremy exchanged perplexed looks with his friends.

When they reached the house used as Greene's headquarters, General Wayne rushed through the door and announced loudly to no one in particular, "Where's General Greene?" An aide called out, "He's in his office with—"

Before the aide could finish his sentence, Wayne had found the office and thrown the door open. The aide was right behind him. "General Wayne, he is in a meeting!"

"Sure enough." Wayne surveyed the small group of officers and civilians in the room, as if looking for someone. He sighed.

General Greene scowled at the intrusion. "General Wayne, I am in an important meeting here so your business better be doubly as important."

"Do you know where Lafayette is?"

"That doesn't qualify, Anthony."

"Nathanael, the boy is missing. He left all upset, without telling his aides where he was going, in civilian clothes, in an area he doesn't know."

The meeting attendees squirmed in their seats and begin to whisper to each other. General Greene excused himself from the meeting and hurried out, pushing Wayne in front of him. He pulled the door shut behind him and glared at General Wayne. "Anthony, calm down please, and lower your voice."

General Wayne turned and looked at Jeremy, Henry and Isak who were hanging back trying not to impose on the generals' space. "These men came all the way from Chester, Pennsylvania with urgent information on the whereabouts of some of André and Arnold's helpers. They came with the intention of giving the information to General Lafayette whom they normally report to…"

General Greene looked over Jeremy, Henry and Isak. "General Wayne just get to the point please. Why do you think there is some problem because you can't find Lafayette?"

"I was trying to tell you, damn it!"

"Anthony, there is no need for yelling."

"We came to town to find him after a courier I sent was rebuffed by Lafayette. Lafayette told the courier that he couldn't see these men this evening due to prior engagements."

"And the problem with that is?"

"His aides told me that he left in civilian clothes after the hanging and he was visibly upset. 'Not himself,' were the exact words."

General Greene took a deep breath and exhaled. "I don't think there is any reason to call out the army just yet. How many times have you just up and 'disappeared' over some 'emotional' upheaval real or imagined?"

"It's not the same thing, Nathanael. That's normal behavior for me."

Greene laughed. "Give the Frenchman his evening off, Anthony. It sounds to me like he doesn't want to be found. If he has something better to do than hang around in this remote cold corner of the world, it's all right with me. I'm sure he doesn't want you to be the big hero coming to rescue him. You are just getting all agitated over nothing and frightening these young men."

"Ah, Nathanael…."

"Anthony, think about it. He's probably exhausted from the trial, the hanging, and all the questions hurled at anyone of us when we venture out into the public. He has a very good reason to be upset and to want to disappear for a while."

Wayne put his hands on his hips and studied the floor. "Well, when _are_ you going to consider it worthy of your concern?"

"If he doesn't show back in town by curfew, come see me."

"Very well, but you need to listen to what these men have to say. I can't leave my post per Washington's orders. Someone needs to put together a raid on the meeting house where these people are supposed to be tomorrow."

General Greene crossed his arms and narrowed his green eyes. "You are not supposed to leave your post, and yet you are standing here talking to me?"

"So flog me! You goin' to get nick-picky with me after I rushed my men up here to protect this God forsaken place?"

General Greene smiled at his animated subordinate and then relaxed, dropping his arms to his side. "I guess not. I don't have the energy to fight with you right now, Anthony Wayne, and I'd probably lose an ear trying." General Greene looked at Jeremy and said, "It's Captain Larkin isn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

"You boys wait in the parlor for a bit. I will be with you as soon as I can."

Yes, sir," Jeremy said. "Thank you, sir."

As Greene turned to open the door, General Wayne caught his arm. "Nathanael, look me in the eye and tell me this doesn't worry you?"

General Greene looked down and said in a low voice, "Only that Gilbert rushed away from the hanging this afternoon, as if something was bothering him. There were five congressmen around me pressing me for answers or I would have run after him. Anthony, I pray to God I don't come to regret my lack of action."

Greene returned to his meeting, shutting the door in General Wayne's face.

"Well, boys, I guess waitin' is all we can do."

"Sir," Jeremy said, "if you need to get back to West Point, we can do the waiting."

"I _should_ do that, but I'm not. I'm going to scout around town to see if anyone has seen him. I'll join you later around ten o'clock at the tavern. We will see if our Marquis has returned by then."

Jeremy smiled. "Thank you, sir."

General Wayne gave the young captain a lazy salute and strode out of the house.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Near Tappan, at the main ferry crossing over the Hudson River, a lone ferryman stood waiting in the early evening. He had a lonely job that had been interrupted by the exciting events of the last week with the arrival of Washington, Arnold's treason and André's hanging. As he stood alone with only his thoughts to entertain him, he reckoned that he might have ferried British spies across to meet with Arnold a dozen times and hadn't known it. Clouds were gathering and blotting out what remained of the setting sun's rays, bringing a cold wind and fog. The ferryman shivered and pulled his coat close around his neck as he watched the fog swirl up from the river and head up the rocky cliffs. He peered north up the wide deep Hudson where mighty tall ships used to sail north all the way to Albany. That had all ended when the Continentals pulled a huge chain across the river up at West Point. Today, the river was silent and darkened by the overcast sky matching his mood. He turned towards town hoping for someone to come and bring him word of the hanging. He was startled by the sight of a lone figure standing several feet away shrouded in the rising fog. For a moment the ferryman thought he was seeing a phantom, but quickly realized the thought was just a trick of his lonely mind. It was a tall slim man dressed in dark clothes. He had a hat pulled down over his eyes so that the ferryman couldn't make out his face. The ferryman called out, "Ho there fella, may I ferry you across the river today?"

The man stepped forward. "Perhaps, good man. Is there a place across the way where I might buy a horse?"

The ferryman noted the French accent, but thought nothing of it. Many Canadian French traveled up and down the Hudson. Although, this man did not sound like the Canadians he knew. "There is a tavern and inn just a mile from the river where you can obtain a horse for a price. Watch out though, the tavern keeper takes advantage of travelers. He is the only such business on that side for miles around. You'd do better to buy your horse in Tappan."

The stranger approached closer. "Then you can ferry me across the river."

The ferryman nodded as the stranger placed some coins in his hand, which amounted to twice the cost of the trip. "Sir, you have paid me too much…"

"That is all right. You keep all of it, friend. Tell me your name."

It is Jacob. Jacob Yeats. Come on then."

The young stranger stepped on the deck of the flat boat ferry behind Jacob. "Thank you, Jacob."

As Jacob pushed off from the shore with his long pole he said, "Perhaps you can tell me…what of the hanging this morning? Did you see it? Did he dance on the rope?"

The stranger looked at Jacob wearily. "It went as expected, Jacob. The young man lost his life, but he appeared to die instantly with no suffering."

Jacob was disappointed. He set his sails that would carry them across the river. "Wish I could've seen it."

"I suppose it was a spectacle for such a small town as this. What side of this war do you favor, Jacob?"

"With the Patriots, of course. I'd be fightin' but I've this bum leg as you can see." Jacob slapped his thigh.

The stranger nodded. "Your walk resembles that of Benedict Arnold."

"Aye, I've seen his walk many times. It always made me feel better to see that man walking towards me. Now, I hate to think on him at all…it makes me spittin' madder than a snake that's been stepped on." Jacob spit in the river to give emphasis to his words.

"Do you remember Nathan Hale?"

"Why of course. He was a brave lad."

In a haunted tone that struck Jacob as odd, the stranger said, "John André was hanged because the British hanged Nathan Hale. It is the fortunes of war that brings a brave young man to the end of a rope as a symbol for others."

Jacob decided that the young Frenchie must have been 'disturbed' by the hanging of the British spy. He had heard that the French were an emotional people. As far as he was concerned, hanging was just reward for a Britisher caught behind the lines, especially after what they did to young Nathan Hale. "Where you headed, mister?"

"North to Canada. I have just ended a turn on a merchant ship and am headed home."

"A sailor are ya?"

"Aye. A sailor I am." The young man flashed a pleasant smile.

When they reached the opposite shore, the stranger saluted Jacob and they parted. Jacob stood watching the man walk away through the gathering fog. Then he remembered. "Hey mister, what's your name?"

The stranger turned. "Gilbert."

"Nice meetin' ya, Zheel-bear! Go well!

* * *

Evening approached at the Dobbs Ferry Inn, which lay on the east side of the Hudson, across the river from Tappan. The inhabitants had settled into the quiet lonely routine that marked every evening at the inn. Mr. Doolittle, the proprietor, sat behind the bar reading a newspaper engrossed in the tale of Benedict Arnold and John André. He looked up briefly to ogle his young indentured woman, Hannah, who was sweeping the floor of the dining room. She was a pretty blonde blue-eyed widow of the war. He smiled in momentary silent admiration of the petite but curvy young wench. Hannah caught his roving eye and glared at him with anger. Both he and the girl were startled when the tavern door swung open emitting a gush of cold wind and a darkly clad tall young man. 

"Come on in young fella," Doolittle said with a crooked smile. "Welcome to the Dobbs Ferry Inn. Have a seat by the fire and warm yourself. May I bring you a drink?"

The young man pulled off his hat and walked up to the bar. He stood tall over Mr. Doolittle. "Are you the proprietor of this establishment?"

Doolittle rose and tried to stretch himself up to the younger man's chin. "Aye, I am. Who be askin'?"

"My name is Gilbert Motier. I am looking to buy a horse. I was told by the ferryman that you might be able to oblige me."

"Of course, young fella, I got horses for sale here." The proprietor looked the tall handsome young man over, sizing him up. There was something about the stranger that didn't add up, the voice, the clothes… "You have money on ya? I don't except credit or barter."

"What is your price, sir, for a good road horse completely equipped?"

The proprietor crossed his arms over his chest and rubbed his chin, preparing for a heated negotiation. "Well, my price is 16 pounds…"

Gilbert reached in the pocket of his coat and pulled out a handful of coins. He counted out four gold coins. "Here, sir, four doubloons. I would like your best brandy and whatever you have to eat as well."

Mr. Doolittle stood dumbfounded, but took the money. "Why, yes, sir. Hannah! Get this gentleman a bottle of our best brandy and warm up some stew for him. I will ready your horse, sir."

* * *

Gilbert strode to the fire and warmed his hands. Hannah brought the bottle, a tankard and a charger of the stew and placed it at a table near the fire. She looked at the man standing with his back to her. He stood straighter and taller than most men, which made her think he was an army officer, but he wasn't dressed like a soldier. It got her curious mind working. "Sir, your meal is ready." 

Hannah suddenly became conscious of her poorly pinned up hair and her crooked ruffled hat. She reached up to straighten both, just as the man turned and smiled so kindly that her anxiety about her appearance melted away.

"Merci, Mademoiselle." He stepped to the table and sat down in the chair. Hannah poured the brandy into a tankard for him and stood watching him drink it. The young man said, "It is very good. Tell me your name."

"Hannah Newlin, sir."

"I would not mind, Hannah Newlin, if you would sit a while with me as I eat this fine meal. I am not accustomed to dining alone."

Hannah's eyes widened. "Oh, sir, I am so sorry. I suppose I was staring…it is just that...few people come our way," she stammered and stuttered.

He gestured to the chair next to him. "Please Hannah, sit down. Be at ease."

Hannah looked around and saw that the proprietor had left to ready the horse. "Perhaps for a bit." She slipped into the chair demurely and lowered her eyes from the handsome Frenchman's kindly gaze.

Gilbert smiled and picked up the heavy fork in his right hand. Hannah was shocked to see him hold the fork like a wealthy Parisian. She had met a few French merchants from Paris who came through doing business with Canada. Gilbert took a bite of the stew. "It is very good. Did you prepare it?"

"Yes, sir. I do all the cooking around here, and the cleaning. I am a bondswoman…"

"I see. You need not be so formal, Hannah. You may call me, Gilbert. It must be lonely for you here. Is there no one your age about?"

"Oh there are plenty of trappers and sailors come through."

"Sailors? I am a merchant sailor. I am on leave to visit my family in Canada."

Hannah couldn't hide her surprise, though she tried. "_You _are a sailor?"

Gilbert nodded, clearly oblivious to the incongruity in his speech and manners and his statement.

"You don't sound like any sailor I know, sir…I mean, Gilbert."

Gilbert nearly choked on a piece of meat. He coughed into his fist. "Ah, Miss, you have caught me indeed. I am but a wealthy merchant's son from Quebec, who ran away from home to seek his fortune as a sailor. I am afraid I am returning home to the scorn of my father, empty handed after only one year. It was not enough time to acquire the language and habits of the sailor class."

"I am glad to hear that!" Hannah laughed, but suddenly remembering herself she covered her mouth with her hand and waited a moment. The young man seemed to not notice her rudeness. In a softer voice she said, "A fine young specimen of a man like yourself shouldn't be wasted on the seas. You are a bit thin and pale like many of the sailors when they first come off the ships. I am sure your mother will fatten you up on good French Canadian cooking when you get home."

"_Oui_, that she will. Have you family as well?"

"I had a family. They were killed by Indian raids up north. That is what brought my husband and me here a few years back."

"I am sorry to hear that. Is the proprietor your husband?"

Hannah chuckled. "Old man Doolittle? No, sir. My husband was a young man like yourself." Hannah dropped her head as the memory of her husband filled her mind. She felt the warmth of Gilbert's strong hand on her arm.

"What is the matter my dear? Did I say something that made you sad?"

"My Harry was killed at war. He joined Mr. Daniel Morgan's riflemen three years ago and was killed in battle at Saratoga. The cause of American freedom from England burned hot in his breast and he died doing what he thought was right charging a British breastwork head on…" Hannah could not hold back the tears. She pulled out her handkerchief and dabbed the moisture from her cheeks.

Gilbert squeezed her arm. "I am so sorry, Hannah. That is why you have to work in a place like this and sold yourself into indenture is it not? You have no family to fall back on?"

Hannah looked up shyly into the young man's face and saw a sad compassion she had not seen on a man before. "Aye, Gilbert. I have four more years to my indenture. But enough about me. I suppose there is a special lass that will be happy upon your return home?"

Gilbert's eyes grew dark. He lowered his gaze. "Oh my," Hannah said, "my words have caused you pain. I am sorry."

"No Hannah, I do have a girl at home. My parting with her was desperately sad. That is what I am recalling."

"But you have a happy reunion ahead of you."

"_Oui_. That is true." Gilbert put his fork down and took a deep breath.

Hannah jumped as the proprietor re-entered the room. She leaped out of her chair as if obeying a silent command. "Sir, I should not be bothering you. Will you be staying the night with us? I will ready a room."

"No. I need to keep moving…perhaps another time."

"Oh, but an early snow is blowing in. It will be a very rough night I fear. Wouldn't you be safer to stay here the night, until the storm passes, and then be on your way in the morn?"

The proprietor called out, "I have your horse saddled and ready, sir."

Gilbert smiled. "I think I will stay the night, sir, if you do not mind. There is a storm coming."

"As you wish. Hannah, prepare a room for our guest."

"Yes Mr. Doolittle, right away." She rushed off upstairs.

* * *

"Mr. Doolittle do you have pen and paper so I may write a note?" 

"Of course, sir." The proprietor brought a quill pen, bottle of ink and a few pieces of parchment.

"Thank you. Please leave the horse saddled outside, I shall not stay the whole night."

The proprietor was surprised, but only nodded, and returned to his newspaper at the bar.

Gilbert pushed the plate of stew aside, dipped the pen and scribbled a short note. He pulled his stamp from his coat pocket and sealed the document. He wrote "To Hannah" on the outside. He had just put the note in his pocket when Hannah reappeared.

* * *

"Your room is ready sir," Hannah said. "I lit the fire so it will be nice and warm in a bit. You let me know if you need anything."

"Do you live near by?"

"I'm in the servant's quarters off the kitchen. Mr. Doolittle lets me keep little Grace with me. She's my three-year old."

Hannah noticed that the young man had not eaten the stew. "Did you not like the stew? I can fix you something else quickly if you like."

"It is not the stew, Hannah. I just lost my appetite."

"Should I fetch you a doctor?"

Gilbert smiled wearily. "No thank you. I am just tired. Perhaps I will retire early so I can get an early start tomorrow."

"Of course. As you wish. You probably think me silly, fussing over you as I am. I'm sorry. I will leave you alone." Hannah turned to leave, but Gilbert grabbed her arm and stopped her.

"Hannah, you are very kind and I appreciate your attentiveness. I hope that you are always rewarded with kindness equal to what you bestow."

Hannah turned to look at the young man. "I don't treat every man so kindly, sir. Some expect a reward I have no intention of giving."

Gilbert laughed. "Then you are as smart as you are _charmant_."

Hannah felt herself blush. She dropped her eyes from the handsome face and curtsied. "Gilbert, won't you tell me who you really are? You do not speak like a sailor or a French provincial."

Gilbert shook his head. "Oh, no, my dear Hannah, you must believe me."

Hannah was disappointed. "I wish only to help you.

"If I tell you a little more, will you help me?"

"Why of course. You can trust me."

Gilbert looked towards the proprietor sitting at the bar and put his finger to his lips to tell Hannah to whisper. "I am on a secret mission for the French allies and there are some men following me. I do not want them to catch me and ruin my very important mission."

Hannah put her hand to her mouth. "Oh Gilbert, that is so dangerous. What do you want me to do?"

"Mr. Doolittle will tell them what I look like and my name, but you can throw them off by saying I rode east from here. You must do this even if they tell you that I am in great danger."

"I can certainly do that for you. You don't think they will torture me do you? To get the information? I don't know how I would hold up to that."

"Oh no, these men would never hurt a woman. I promise you that."

Hannah was satisfied with his answer and felt quite proud to be assisting the handsome young Canadian...or Frenchman...she still wasn't sure. She left him and walked to her quarters. As she readied for bed and kissed her child where she lay in her crib, her mind filled with all the possible intrigues in which the gallant young Gilbert might be the hero.

Grace reached her small hands up to her mother. Hannah picked her up and carried her to the old rocker where she would tell her daughter a story or two as she did every night. Tonight, she would tell Grace of a handsome knight on a white horse that went riding through a dark forest to rescue a beautiful young princess locked in a castle dungeon. She had loved those old tales as a child. Gilbert had brought them to mind. He seemed so much the real life embodiment of the hero in those stories. She had never met such a man as he.

* * *

Gilbert went up to his room and found the warm fire just as Hannah had promised. He sat down on the bed and stared into the flames watching them dance merrily. He stayed that way too long, losing track of the time. The sound of the building groaning from the wind aroused him from his meditation. He stood and looked out the window. Snow had started to fall. There were only the lights from the inn lighting the landscape outside the window, but he could see the flakes whirling about with the wind. Gilbert sat down at the desk and quickly wrote a pass from General Lafayette to allow one Gilbert Motier to move through all check points along the Hudson River through to Canada. He sighed. Nobody ever knew him or believed him when he said he was Lafayette anyway. Everyone had his or her own idea of who Lafayette was, and right now, the 'boy general' seemed strangely like a separate person, a creation of someone's fanciful imagination.

Gilbert pocketed the pass, put out the fire and headed downstairs.

The tavern was empty. He quietly passed by the bar and headed for the kitchen, finding it empty as well, but lit by hanging lanterns. There was a door off the kitchen. He opened it slowly and peeked inside.

Hannah was sleeping peacefully with a smile on her face. She had forgotten to put out the lamp on her bedside table. Gilbert thought it was because he had distracted her. He stepped inside the room and immediately noticed the toddler in her crib at the foot of Hannah's bed. The little girl was watching him with big blue eyes. He froze in fear of being found out, but just for a moment. He smiled and placed his finger to his lips to indicate 'quiet.' The child smiled back and mimicked him, placing her small finger clumsily to her lips. It made him want to laugh. The little girl reminded him of his own daughters he had recently kissed good-bye. He felt a lump in his throat. He swallowed hard and bent over and blew out the light. After placing the note with Hannah's name on it on the nightstand, Gilbert stepped quietly back to the door. As he opened the door, he turned to see the light from the kitchen flooding in on the sleeping mother and child. He whispered, _may God bless you Hannah Newlin and little Grace all your days_. Then he hurried out to his waiting horse and galloped north into the threatening snowstorm.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

General Greene came out of his meeting a few hours after he had shut the door in Wayne's face. He immediately summoned Jeremy, Henry and Isak. As he pulled his office door to behind them, he said, "So tell me, do I need to take notes, or is this short and sweet?"

Jeremy pulled a piece of paper out of his vest pocket. "Sir, this has the names of five wanted British agents who were involved with André. They are meeting near New Rochelle tomorrow night."

"New Rochelle? That is behind the British line."

"Yes, sir, it is, but it would only take a few men to capture these agents. They will not be expecting it."

Greene sat down at the end of the dining room table that served as his desk. He read the note, then laid it down on the table and leaned back in his chair. "It would be very dangerous. The British may be planning an attack and be more alert than normal. We have some agents behind the lines. Patriots that are posing as Tories. Perhaps I could send this information to them and see what they can do."

"Sir," Isak said, "we thought that we would take the lead, since we scouted it out on our way here…"

Greene looked up in surprise. "You came through the British lines?"

"Yes, sir," Jeremy said. "At the time, we didn't know the whole story about Arnold and André. We kind of heard it on the way, sir."

"You boys shouldn't be taking such risks behind British lines. I feel certain General Lafayette would not approve of it under these circumstances. The British will be looking for revenge. You will end up hanged like Nathan Hale —"

"Or like John André?" Henry said.

The general looked at Henry and gave him a tired smile. "Yes, exactly like John André. We have a network of spies behind the British lines that are accustomed to the risks involved and know the area. Let me take care of this. You have done us a great service just bringing it here." General Greene blushed. "I am very sorry General Lafayette wasn't here to greet you." He was clearly disturbed that he didn't know the young general's whereabouts.

"We are disappointed, too, sir," Jeremy said, "but for all we know he has people like us here and he is just on a little mission."

Greene laughed. "That is true Jeremy, and he always keeps General Washington and me in the dark about his little 'side adventures' so that we won't worry." General Greene's face broke out in a wide grin. "Ha! So I am not going to worry…yet." The general pulled a gold watch out of the pocket of his vest and opened it. In spite of his earlier words, he looked worried. "It is near ten o'clock. General Wayne will be here any minute."

"He asked us to meet him at the inn at curfew," Jeremy said, "to see if General Lafayette has shown up."

Greene stood up and walked towards the door. His small limp was noticeable. The general was only in his mid thirties but he looked older and was clearly tired and stiff from sitting in a long meeting. "Very well, I will save General Wayne a trip and go with you."

Jeremy, Henry, Isak and General Greene left headquarters and walked out into the cold October night. They were greeted by a cold gust of wind and snow. Henry said, "Where did this come from?"

"Winter's blowing a warning shot off our bow," Greene said.

"Aye, it is," Isak said. "Let's hope General Lafayette is back where he is supposed to be so that we don't have to worry about him being out in this."

The men made their way through the quiet empty streets to the inn. They found General Wayne inside sitting with Lieutenant Grayson and Colonel Gimat. Wayne shouted, "Boys! Greene. I see you have been talking."

"Yes, sir," Jeremy said. "General Greene is going to take care of that little business at New Rochelle."

Wayne winked. "Good. I'm afraid our missing marquis has not returned."

Jeremy, Henry and Isak couldn't hide their disappointment.

"Have you asked around town if anyone has seen him?" Greene asked.

Wayne nodded and stood. "Aye. His horse is still at the livery, and no one has seen him, except…"

Everyone looked expectedly at General Wayne who looked like he held the answer to the disappearance in his pocket. General Greene impatiently growled, "Well, Anthony, are you going to tell us or not?"

"The ferry man down at the river described a fellow that crossed this evening who looked like our marquis and carried the name Gilbert, pronounced in the French way."

"So we know he has crossed the river. Is that all?"

"He asked about buying a horse."

"From the ferryman?"

"No! At the tavern across the river."

"Well, that's something at least."

"I was just about to go up to his room," Wayne said, "and see if I could find a clue to his sudden disappearance. Perhaps a letter or something set him off."

Greene motioned for Wayne to lead the way and the two generals and the Yankee Doodle Society trudged up the narrow stairs behind him.

In Lafayette's room, they found his uniform and his sword.

"It looks like he is planning on returning," Henry said.

Wayne picked up the coat and rifled through the pockets. He uncovered a crumpled note. "What's this?" He smoothed out the paper and read. His dark brows rose up in surprise. "This may be the spark to the fire." Wayne handed the note to Greene.

General Green read the note and looked up at the trio of young men who were anxiously waiting to know its contents. "It says that Arnold was the British agent, Gustavus, who told the British the location of the French fleet at Newport." Greene eased down into the frayed overstuffed chair in the room. "God, I wish this had been given to me instead of Lafayette."

"We HAVE to find him," Wayne said.

"General Lafayette will tell YOU to go jump in the river if you find him. He clearly left with the intention of not being found. The last thing he wants is you following him."

"Sirs," Henry said cautiously, "it is not my place to speak on the matter, but I have to say that I agree with General Greene. It is clear by his actions that General Lafayette did not want his aides or staff to know his whereabouts this evening for reasons known only to him. It would feel like...betrayal...to chase after him under the circumstances."

Jeremy nodded. "I agree with Henry, sirs. Although, this is unlike the general, we three have certainly been the cause of his disappearances on more than one occasion and it would have been disastrous for anyone to have been searching for him and stumbled into a secret mission."

Wayne had listened quietly to the young men. He turned to Isak and said, "And you? Where do you stand on the matter, Mr. Poole?"

Isak looked surprised. "I agree with Henry and Jeremy, sir. Whatever business has taken General Lafayette away from town this evening is his business not ours."

Wayne frowned and bowed his head. "I suppose that all of you will still feel this way when we pull General Lafayette's body from the river tomorrow or recover his hacked up remains in the woods…at least you will be able to say that you were 'loyal to the end.'"

"Anthony!" Greene exclaimed with anger.

"Well! The boy is hurting, Nathanael. He needs his friends to give a damn! He is clearly disturbed and not thinking straight."

"We don't know that."

"You are holding the evidence there in your hand. You know him as well as I and you know what is most likely going through his mind right now."

Greene grimaced and re-read the note. "I know he would never contemplate suicide. He would think of his young family…and the Washingtons."

"General Greene," Jeremy said, "I think I am missing the point of that note. What exactly does it mean to Lafayette?"

"It means that over 200 Frenchmen died needlessly and we lost a battle thanks to Benedict Arnold's treason. Lafayette had given Arnold the information, thinking him a staunch Patriot as we all did before a week ago."

Jeremy's face dropped as he looked at his friends with concern.

"I know he would never kill himself, Nathanael," Wayne said. "It's the fact that he is unguarded and distracted that concerns me. Do you think he's paying any attention to protecting his own life right now?"

Greene slumped down further in the chair, still holding the note. "I will not send a troop of soldiers after him. It would alarm the citizenry and stir up the loyalists fearing that we are about to raid the countryside. I do not need that right now."

"Then I will go alone if I must."

"Has anyone seen or talked to Sergeant Boggs, his aide?" Greene asked.

"He's down with Lafayette's new command across the river from New York," Wayne said. "He is expecting Lafayette to return this evening. Lieutenant Grayson said that was supposed to be his destination after the supper with Washington, which he missed."

"What about General Washington?"

"He apparently has made nothing of his absence. He may think he left for New York early."

Greene shook his head and grumbled. "Without saying a word to Washington about it? I doubt that is sitting well with our commander right now. If it were you or I, everyone would have heard about his displeasure and quick."

"So he is cutting young Lafayette some slack--"

"As WE should be doing!"

"General Greene," Jeremy said, "if you are going to send someone to find Lafayette than it should be the three of us." Jeremy looked at his young friends. "At least we are not military and he considers us friends. We will not 'stir up' the countryside."

Greene rested his chin on his thumb and rubbed his forefinger across his lips clearly trying to make a decision. "All right. The three of you go, but take General Wayne with you. He knows the area and can get you through the pickets. I guess I don't need to tell any of you to take care how you approach General Lafayette when you find him. If he is not in danger…"

"Of course, sir," Jeremy said. "We will be discreet in our inquiries and only confirm that he is not in danger if you wish."

Greene stood. "I will try to forestall any concern on General Washington's part until I hear from you, but I can not deceive or lie to him."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Three sentries stood huddled about a large campfire. They were standing not three yards from a huge chain that had been pulled across the Hudson River to stop the British ships from moving north. One of the sentries, a tall militiaman said, "Well boys, I'm thankful I've got sentry duty on the east side of the river tonight. The wind is not nearly as biting down here as it is up on the bluff there manning those guns at West Point." His slow drawl gave him away as a Virginian. The other men chuckled and pulled their coat collars up at the mention of the cold.

The stout stocky sentry next to him said, "Your problem, Rutherford, is you're not used to the cold down in Virginia. We Mainers know it well. Our constitutions' were formed by the northeaster and twenty inch snows."

"We Pennsylvanians," the third sentry added, "get our share of the cold and snow. More than I care for really."

The stout sentry said, "Well, Quaker, did you join General Wayne's army to get away from the cold and snow in Pennsylvania?"

"I'm no Quaker," the Pennsylvanian growled. "I would follow General Wayne anywhere. I was at Stony Point with him in the heat of July. Men dropped dead from the heat. 'Mad Anthony' Wayne is an American hero for all time."

The other two sentries gave the Pennsylvanian a look of reverent awe. Any man that had been at Stony Point with Wayne enjoyed being elevated above the common soldier.

"You men showed those Britishers on that day, I must say," the Maine man said. "That makes you all right by me -- even if you are from Pennsylvania."

With the pecking order established, the men grew quiet contemplating the memory of that great battle as they stared across the river at the bluff which was a black mass topped with tall pines. They could just make out the watch fires and a few guards moving about on its edge. The sound of the river at their feet moving quickly along its banks lulled the men into a quiet dream-like state as they watched the fires. They didn't hear the approach of the rider until he was upon them.

The Pennsylvanian was the first to react. He turned, quickly grabbing his musket only to drop it on the ground. "Damn this cold! Stop there! Who are you?"

The rider stopped and checked his horse just outside of the light from the fire.

The other two sentries quickly brought their guns up and leveled them at the rider who was just a dark shape.

From the darkness came a young French voice. "I am Gilbert Motier. I am on a mission to Canada to procure funds for the army. I have a pass from General Lafayette."

The Pennsylvanian said, "Come forward, slowly."

The rider nudged his horse towards the men. He pulled a paper from his coat pocket and handed it to the Pennsylvanian.

The sentry took the note, walked to the fire and read it. "Dismount and come over here by the fire so I can get a good look at you."

The rider stepped down from his horse. He walked to the fire and towered over the three sentries. They looked at the man who seemed to be a little under dressed for the weather. The Virginian said, "Well it figures General Lafayette would send a 'boy' on such an errand." The other sentries chuckled. The rider raised his eyebrows at the comment but said nothing.

"Be on your way then," the Pennsylvanian said. "There's a storm blowing down from the north. It might be bad. You don't look like you got enough clothes on you for such a ride."

"I will be all right. Are there any Tories about up north?"

"Naah, if there are they ain't going to be out in this cold," the Maine man said. "Look here you need some gloves on you at least. You take mine." The man pulled off a pair of kid leather gloves and handed them to the young rider.

"I cannot take these from you. You need them more than I."

"Well, that's very noble of you son, but you are going to end up with frostbite in your fingers if you don't wear some gloves. I got the fire here and only a couple of more hours of sentry duty. I got another pair back in the barracks anyway. You take these. I'd give you a heavier coat, too, if I had one, but the army commissaries don't see fit to give us what we need."

"_Merci_. I promise to return them to you. What is your name and regiment?"

"My name's Ansel Grouper from the Maine regiment. I'm serving here at West Point for the week, but after that I don't know where I'll be."

The rider nodded. He took his pass back, folded it and put it in his pocket. Then he put on the gloves and mounted his horse and proceeded north along the river road, leaving the sentries watching after him puzzled as to who the Frenchman was and where he had come from and why he seemed so ill equipped for a trip to Canada in winter. The Maine sentry said, "That was no Canadian for sure. His accent is straight from Paris."

* * *

General Wayne and the Yankee Doodle Society visited briefly with the ferryman, Jacob Yeats, and then continued to the Dobbs Ferry Inn. 

The building was dark. General Wayne jumped off his horse and hurried to the door. He banged loudly and yelled, "Proprietor, open up, this is General Wayne of the Continental Army! I order you to open this door at once!"

Jeremy, Isak and Henry remained on their horses.

After several minutes of Wayne's loud yelling and banging a small light flickered in one of the tavern windows and approached the door. A gruff voice growled from within. "What do I care who you are or what you are? Do you not know the time of night man?"

A small child's crying drifted through the door as the man opened it. "Now you've gone and woke up Hannah's brat. I have guests here you know."

General Wayne pushed the balding middle-aged man back and entered. "We are looking for a young Frenchman. Has a Frenchman been here tonight?"

"Aye. There was one. He bought a horse from me." The proprietor swung his lamp outside and peered around. "The horse is gone, so I reckon he went with it. What's he done?"

"He has _done_ nothing. It is critical that I find him."

The Yankee Doodle Society dismounted and followed Wayne into the tavern as the grumpy proprietor lit several lamps at the bar. When the proprietor saw the boys hesitating at the entry, he said, "Well come on in and shut the door, boys. You're letting all the heat out."

As the man busied himself with kindling the fire in the fireplace, a young woman walked out with a curly blonde headed toddler in her arms. The toddler was whining and rubbing her eyes.

General Wayne tipped his hat at the young woman. "Hello, Miss, do you work here?"

"That's Hannah Newlin," the proprietor barked. "She works here."

"I am sorry for awakening you and your little girl, Miss."

"She will fall back to sleep in a minute. I will go put her down and come back and make some coffee."

The gruff proprietor asked, "Hannah, you know where that French boy went?"

Hannah looked shocked. "Sir, why would I know that?"

"You looked like you were sweet talking him to me. You being a widow, and he a handsome boy and all…"

"Mr. Doolittle! I can assure you my conversation with him was completely innocent with no such designs as you are implying."

The proprietor sniffed and continued fiddling with the fire.

"If you talked with him, Miss," Wayne said, "perhaps he mentioned where he was going?"

"East! He said he was headed east. Now I must tend to my daughter."

* * *

Hannah turned her back abruptly on the men and returned to her room. She slammed the door causing Grace to jump in her arms and start her bawling fit all over again. 

Hannah sobbed with her. "I am sorry my dear. Mommy didn't mean to scare you."

As she smoothed the child's soft hair and laid her back in her crib, Hannah patted the child's back, which quieted her. As Hannah performed the routine duty she performed every night with Grace, her eyes wondered over her bare room, which contained only the bed, a nightstand, an old worn out rocker, a chest and Grace's crib. Her eye returned to the nightstand beside her bed. There was something different. A note!

Hannah hurried to the side of her bed and saw her name written in a fancy cursive. She broke the seal and unfolded it timidly. Her heart began to pound in her chest. The writing was fancy, something about paying her money care of a gentleman she knew in Tappan who was quite wealthy. At the bottom was a signature, the 'Marquis de Lafayette.' Hannah was shocked. This was a direction to give her, Hannah Newlin, a large sum of money, but she knew not how it had come into her possession. She had never met the Marquis de Lafayette…unless…Hannah sat on her bed stunned. _Gilbert_.

She laid the note gently on the bed, dropped her head into her hands and wept as she had never wept before. She knew it meant that she and Grace could be free of her indenture and old Mr. Doolittle's insinuations, and his 'roving eye' that announced the contents of his filthy mind. She thought of the young Gilbert and how she had dreamed that he was a prince or a knight going off to save a princess. She had never imagined herself the princess! She turned to her daughter who was calmly watching her, as if she knew… "Gracie, did a young man come in the room tonight?"

Grace nodded. The little girl said, "Mommy's prince?"

Hannah smiled. "Yes, Grace, he is _our_ prince. We have a new bedtime story now don't we?"

Grace giggled. There was a loud knock at the door that made Hannah jump.

"Mrs. Newlin, we really need to speak with you." She knew it was the Continental officer.

Hannah felt fear tightening her stomach, quickening her breath. "I will be right out, sir." She heard the man walk away. Hannah hid the note under her pillow. She wiped her eyes and straightened her hair, then took a deep breath and walked out the door. She had a debt to pay and she was not going to fail to do so.

* * *

When Hannah re-entered the tavern, the fire was roaring and the men were sitting with Mr. Doolittle. The proprietor was doing all the talking. "The boy said his name was Gilbert Motier. He gave me four gold doubloons for the horse and a meal. He must be made of money, I thought. He wrote a note while he was here. I do not know to whom. I saw him seal it and put it in his pocket." 

Hannah tensed at the mention of the note.

Doolittle continued with his back to Hannah. "I heard him tell Hannah he would stay the night but he told me to leave his horse saddled outside because he would not be staying the _whole_ night. Naturally, I assumed that he was going to give Hannah what she clearly wanted…"

Hannah cleared her throat, which caused all eyes to turn towards her. She scowled at Mr. Doolittle.

All the men except Mr. Doolittle stood as Hannah entered the room. Doolittle smirked. "Gentlemen, she is only my indenture. There is no need for your show of chivalry."

Jeremy smiled at Hannah. "We will be the judge of how we choose to show our chivalry, Mr. Doolittle."

Hannah returned Jeremy's kind smile. She thought the handsome blond youth looked too kind to be chasing after Gilbert for ill purposes, as did the portly young man with eyeglasses on his nose, and the tall dark Negro. She was not so sure of the middle-aged army officer.

Mr. Doolittle sniffed and chortled. "If you men have no further need of me, I am going to return to my warm bed. If you want to stay the night Hannah can ready your rooms." The man shuffled into a side chamber and shut the door behind him.

Jeremy bowed to Hannah. "Allow me to introduce myself and my companions, Mrs. Newlin. My name is Captain Jeremy Larkin, the man in the uniform there is General Anthony Wayne…" Hannah put her hand to her mouth, stunned at the presence of General Wayne. Jeremy hesitated at her reaction but continued, "and these gentlemen are my friends Isak and Henry. We are from Chester, Pennsylvania."

Hannah curtsied and said, "I am pleased to meet you all. I am very sorry my daughter chose to cry at your arrival. She is fine now. You are a long way from home."

"Aye, we are," Henry said peering over his spectacles. "We are searching for a very good friend of ours. A comely tall young Frenchman named Gilbert. You met him tonight?"

"If you mean the Gilbert that Mr. Doolittle mentioned, yes, he stopped here to buy a horse."

"And he told you he was headed east?" General Wayne asked.

"Aye, sir, that is what he said. I do not know any more about his purpose or his destination." Hannah knew now that Gilbert was trying to mislead these men who should be his friends. She felt remorse at deceiving General Wayne, but said nothing more, holding to her promise to Gilbert.

"Hannah," the general said in a soft voice, "Gilbert is the Marquis de Lafayette. We are his friends and we are concerned about him." General Wayne stared unblinking into Hannah's eyes causing her to drop her gaze to the floor.

"He told me he was a sailor on leave headed home to Canada."

Wayne laughed. "Gilbert a sailor? I bet that was about as convincing as me claiming to be Lord Cornwallis. Seems like you would know the difference between a French nobleman and a French provincial sailor."

"I had no reason to doubt him. I am very sorry I can not help you."

The men appeared satisfied with Hannah's answer. They turned to one another and started a conversation ignoring her presence. She was used to that, men thinking she was invisible because she was a mere female. She listened intently as she walked to the fire and removed the boiling water left there by Mr. Doolittle for her to make coffee for the visitors.

"Sir," Jeremy said, "he could be returning to Hartford to speak with Rochambeau about Arnold's treason and escape. That sounds like something General Lafayette would do. He probably feels strongly that Rochambeau should hear it from him in person instead of sending a letter."

"I agree that is a strong possibility," Wayne said, "but it is too obvious. There is no reason why he would have kept that from his aides or not taken the time to explain to General Washington his absence from supper. He could have traveled to Hartford in uniform with the normal contingent of 20 mounted guards." General Wayne turned toward Hannah who quickly ducked her eyes.

* * *

The general led the boys to the door. He whispered so that Hannah could not hear him, "It is too obvious that Hannah was told that he was headed east. He would not be so careless if his purpose was to not be followed." 

"You mean," Isak said, "you think the general is purposely trying to throw us off his trail?"

"Yep. He is headed north. Hannah gave him away without realizing it. She said he told her he was headed home to Canada. Last I heard, unless there's been some cosmic shifting of the continents, Canada lies due north."

"North?" Jeremy said. "Into the snowstorm? Why?"

"Shh...let's not let Hannah know she betrayed young Gilbert. Humor me, boys. We will see if the sentries posted at West Point are doing their job." The general checked his watch. "But we must hurry before the changing of the guards."

As they left the inn, Jeremy was the last out the door. He turned and smiled at Hannah. "Thank you Mrs. Newlin for your help. I am sorry we must leave in such a hurry."

"Go well, Captain Larkin. I hope you find your friend in good health."

Jeremy saw true concern in Hannah's eyes. He wanted to thank her for that concern, but he just nodded hoping she would understand that he knew and it was all right.

The men climbed into their saddles and trotted off north.

* * *

General Wayne and the Yankee Doodle Society galloped their horses hard against the driving snow, ignoring the biting cold. They reached the sentries at the island across from West Point in little over an hour. 

The sentries were surprised, but had their guns aimed at the approaching riders by the time they arrived. When they saw General Wayne, they immediately returned their muskets to their sides and saluted. The general returned the salute and asked, "Did a young Frenchman come by here tonight?"

The Pennsylvanian did the talking, since he had established himself as the leader earlier in the evening. "Yes sir, General Wayne, there was a young Frenchman."

"Was he dressed in black britches and a short coat?"

"Yes, sir."

General Wayne looked knowingly at his young companions. He turned to the sentries, "I reckon you boys think you're pretty smart don't you?"

The sentries looked puzzled at one another and shrugged.

"That was General Lafayette you met tonight."

The sentries' jaws dropped their eyebrows raised as if they had been issued a military order to act surprised. Jeremy, Henry and Isak broke out laughing.

The Maine sentry said, "Well I'll be…he's a young one, ain't he? I figured he was no Canadian."

"Sorry, sir," the Pennsylvanian said. "Is he in some kind of trouble? Why is he going incognito and why are you hunting him?"

"I suppose he has his reasons for his disguise that he didn't bother to tell me. We aren't hunting him. I'm just concerned about his safety out here alone. That is why we are following him."

The sentries nodded.

"Did he give you a clue where he was headed?"

"To Canada. That's what his note said. It was a pass to get him through to Canada. A pass from…" The Pennsylvanian looked sheepishly at his companions. "…from General Lafayette."

Wayne and the Yankee Doodle Society chuckled.

"Canada?" Henry asked, astonished. "General Wayne, are we on a wild goose chase to Canada in a blinding snowstorm?"

"I doubt that Canada is his destination, Henry. I'm getting an idea of where he may be headed."

"Where would that be, sir?" Jeremy said.

"Ticonderoga."

"The fort?" Isak said. "Wasn't it burned by the British?"

"Yes. I think General Lafayette is searching for someone or something."

"What do you mean, sir?" Jeremy asked. "Who?"

The general didn't answer, he just turned his horse north and moved away. Jeremy, Henry and Isak looked at each other, but followed. They moved away from the sentries. Jeremy said, "Sir, you don't intend to ride all night do you? The horses…the snow…"

Wayne stopped his horse and dropped his head. "I am worried, boys, about our young marquis." The general peered into the driving snow and shook his head. "He is out there in this, alone."

"Sir," Henry said, "General Lafayette has the sense to find shelter from the snow."

"We could pass him in this storm," Isak said, "or get lost ourselves and what good would that do?"

"You are all right, of course. Reason shall prevail. We will stay the night here at West Point and follow our young friend's trail in the morning. Surely, the snow will have ended by then. We can cross back to the west side of the river, to West Point, just ahead at the ferry. Then we will know if he did the same."

As they crossed the river, the ferry keeper confirmed that a young Frenchman had passed over the river a few hours before them and headed north on the west river road without saying where he was going.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Near midnight, at a small farm near Albany, the snow was coming down heavily, as the Wright family huddled around a makeshift fire in their stable. Abel Wright, the patriarch of the family, lay near the fire with an injured leg. His eldest son Caleb sat across the fire from him, while Abel's wife, Sarah, was preparing a late night one pot supper over a makeshift tripod that stood over the fire. The smaller children huddled under blankets asleep near their mother.

A sudden hard gust of wind made the old stable creak and groan. Sarah grabbed the blanket on her shoulders and pulled it tighter. She sighed deeply. "I don't see how thee will be able to get the frame up in this snow, Caleb. Working late into the night is unwise. Thou shall fall ill I fear."

Caleb had brought his work inside with him and was quietly planing a rough board smooth, the shavings falling in a pile at his feet. He did not stop his work as he spoke. "Mother, don't be discouraged by a little snow. It's the first snow of the season, God willing, it shall not stay." Caleb stopped his work and looked at his two younger siblings. "The children enjoyed God's blessing of snow today. Their play wore them out. It has allowed thee to get a much needed rest this evening."

"Sarah Wright," Abel said, "this is the first I hath heard thee complain of God's nature. It snows because it is right that it snows."

"Do thou also thinketh good husband it is God's will that those scavengers took the milk cow, the horses, the plow, the wagon and every tool from us? It is a harsh fate for good people. Look at Caleb's hands raw and blistered from hand planing the wood."

Abel bowed his head. "I don't knoweth what can be done, Sarah. Our neighbors are afraid to help us for fear that their businesses, houses or barns will be burned, or worse."

"I suppose I am also to thank God that thou was shot in the leg and rendered unable to provide for thy family?"

"Sarah, you are close to blasphemy, and in ear shot of the children."

"When a Friend isn't even safe…Why do the loyalists not protect us?"

"Because we are not loyalists."

"Neither are we patriots."

"Take care Sarah that thou doth not fall into idle talk regarding the politics of this war."

Suddenly the conversation was stopped by a knock at the stable door. Caleb jumped up and grabbed his hunting gun which leaned against the wall. He stood near the door and said firmly, "Who is it?"

"A traveler. I know it is very late but I saw your light. My horse and I need a bit of rest and shelter from the snow. Can you spare a little room? We shall not impose upon you for long." The voice was young and French.

Abel said, "Caleb Wright put down thy gun and let the friend inside."

"But Father…"

The voice from the other side of the door said, "I mean no harm. Please do not be afraid."

Abel gestured to his son to let the stranger in. Caleb lowered his gun and pulled up the wood bar holding the doors shut and let the door swing out. The wind blew snow in Caleb's face and whistled as it passed through the stable.

The young stranger stood covered with snow. He stomped his boots on the ground and shook off as much as he could before entering. Upon crossing the stable threshold, he removed his hat to reveal a dark haired handsome youth who appeared to be in his early twenties.

"Please enter, friend," Abel said and gestured with one hand. "Thou art welcome. Caleb, see to our friend's horse." Caleb hurried out the doors and closed them behind him.

The stranger looked about the stable. "Have you lost your home, sir?"

"Yea, the dark crumbled ruins outside is what is left of our home. It burned last first night. Please, we do not use titles in this home. We speak plainly. My name is Abel Wright, this is my wife, Sarah, and that was my son Caleb that greeted thee at the door. What is thy first name, friend?"

"It is Gilbert."

"Please be free, Gilbert. Warm thyself by the fire here."

The young Frenchmen approached the fire and sat down on the end of the bench that Caleb had vacated. He pulled off the pair of leather gloves he wore and placed them in the pocket of his coat.

Sarah saw the young man eyeing her two small children huddled asleep beside her. "That is Rachel and George, my littlest ones."

Gilbert smiled pleasantly. He turned to Abel. "Did lightning strike your house, Abel?"

"Nay. A band of roving Vermonters called the Green Mountain Boys struck my house. They find Friends like us who abstain from war…objectionable. They desireth our participation and think they can obtain it by force."

Gilbert's bright face darkened as if a shadow had passed over. "I am sorry to hear that. You surely did not deserve such ill treatment for your beliefs. Was it they that hurt your leg?"

"Yea. They shot me as I ran out the door to plead with them for the sake of the small children sleeping inside." Abel lowered his head in silence for a moment. "By the grace of God, Caleb was able to carry our family to safety unseen by the violent men." After another moment of silence, Abel raised his head and peered at Gilbert. "Are thou familiar with the Religious Society of Friends?"

"Not very. I have not been long in this country."

"I would not expect thee to be. Thou art Catholic?"

"_Oui._ I was raised a Catholic as are all Frenchmen."

"Of course, friend. It makes no difference here. You are still as welcome as any other neighbor."

Sarah reached out, lifted the lid of the pot sitting on a tripod over the fire, and stirred the contents.

"That smells good," Gilbert said. "May I share it with you?"

Sarah smiled at Abel, then at Gilbert. "Thou would do us a kindness by doing so."

Caleb returned and after a short grace by way of silence, the small family and guest partook of Sarah's humble vegetable soup.

After the light meal, Caleb could not help his youthful teenage curiosity and began to prod the young visitor with questions. "Where are thy headed?"

"North."

"Thou doth not sound Canadian."

Sarah in a gentle but firm voice said, "Caleb, stop thy prying. It matters not where young Gilbert has been or is going. Thou doth not need to know."

"But Mother, we have so few visitors. I only want to hear of another life different from my own."

"More the reason for thee to keep quiet. That is only jealousy and idle lust for what thee hath not or can not attain."

Caleb fell silent to his Mother's scolding.

Gilbert picked up the board Caleb had been planing. "Caleb, with your father injured, are you trying to rebuild your home yourself?"

"Yea. I shall do it myself if I must. No one among our neighbors will help us for fear those Green Mountain Boys will return and render to them what they bestowed upon us."

"I see." The young stranger bit his lower lip as if pondering a decision. "I could stay to help you. I have very little experience at raising a house, but I learn quickly and I am strong."

Abel smiled. "Thank you for your kindness, Gilbert. If you are moved to assist Caleb than it is God's will."

"I will rise before dawn in the morn," Caleb said. "I believe the snow will have stopped. Thou may sleep with me in the end stall, so that we do not wake the others when we rise."

"Of course," Gilbert said. "I am weary and would like to retire if I may."

Sarah could see the young man was telling the absolute truth. His skin was pale and his eyes appeared hollow. "Caleb, show our guest to his accommodations. Have a good night, Gilbert. May God keep thee."

* * *

After Caleb and Gilbert lay down on the bed of clean dry hay, Caleb whispered, "Gilbert, thou art a real Frenchman from France?" 

"_Oui._"

"A soldier?"

"_Oui._"

I could tell thee did not want to tell my parents. Are thee a patriot?

"_Oui,_ again Caleb. What else would a Frenchman be in this war? You have nothing to fear from me."

"I know. I have thought of running off to join the patriots."

"Your father needs you now and it would break your mother's heart."

"I know, but we Friends believe that God is in each of us and speaks to our hearts. I believe God is moving me to join the cause, even at war. I know in my heart it is the right thing to do."

"There are others among the patriots like you. General Greene for one. He was excommunicated from his Friends in Rhode Island for joining in the war. They even censured him for having military books. He feels as a stranger when he returns home."

Caleb sighed. "That is a high price to pay for what one believes. I respect him for that. It is a hard choice to give up one's faith, family and friends and commit ones heart and soul to war--"

"It is a sacrifice that your family will make with you, Caleb. It is against their beliefs. You must consider them."

"It is a sacrifice I will gladly give for this young country and my young siblings. Next month, I turn seventeen. I will go to war…"

"Caleb," Sarah's voice gently drifted to them, "are thee talking Gilbert's ear off when he needs his sleep?"

"Sorry, Mother. Good night and God keep thee."

* * *

In a little while, Sarah put out the fire. Carrying a lamp and blankets to the stall where Caleb and Gilbert lay she quietly covered the boys with the blankets. The movement startled Gilbert. He jumped and looked at her with fear. "I am sorry, Gilbert. I did not mean to frighten thee. I brought more warm blankets. It will get very cold with the fire out." 

Gilbert's expression relaxed to that of profound sadness. He reached out and grabbed Sarah's hand and squeezed it warmly. "Thank you, Sarah. You are very kind. I fear that I am not worthy. I am very sorry--"

"No, my child. You are one of God's own and worthy of every bit of kindness we can give. Good night now and God keep thee."

* * *

Day broke to find the snow stopped and Caleb and Gilbert hard at work raising the first wall of the new house with ropes. As they placed temporary braces to hold it in place, Abel Wright hobbled out of the stable on crutches with his wife by his side. Sarah brought coffee for the boys and they eagerly took the cups to warm their hands. 

"It is fine work boys," Abel said. "Ye have done good. God smiles upon ye."

Caleb smiled at Gilbert. "Father is the master of understatement." Caleb turned to his father and said, "Father, we shall have all the walls up this morn. Thank God for bringing Gilbert to us."

"Yea," Sarah said. "We have been granted a favor."

By mid morning, Caleb kept his promise and called out the whole family to see the four walls standing tall and stout on the old foundation. It was the skeleton of a home. The two smallest Wrights ran through it, trying out each door and window opening, giggling and bubbling over with imagination. Sarah was moved to apologize for their behavior. "Please forgive them, Gilbert, they are too young to understand the gravity of our situation."

Gilbert showed her a compassionate dimpled smile. "There is no need to apologize. I enjoy their laughter."

Sarah offered the young men breakfast just as the snow started to fall again.

After breakfast, Gilbert said, "My friends, it pains me to do so but I must leave you now and continue on my journey. I will send men back to help you as soon as possible. Caleb can not raise the roof alone."

Abel squeezed Gilbert's shoulder. "God go with thee, Gilbert. You are a good man. We will accept your kindness, though, thou understandeth it is not required?"

"Yes, Abel, I believe I do understand." Gilbert embraced the older man as he stood in the threshold of the stable. Then he did the same with Sarah and Caleb. The two little children, Rachel and George, ran to him and pulled at his coat. "Us, too, Gilbert. Thou shalt not forget us?"

Gilbert laughed as he knelt down to accept the two children's eager embraces and kisses. "No, my dears, I will never forget you."

* * *

Just before dawn, the Yankee Doodle Society and General Wayne left the comfortable warmth of West Point and headed north. The snow had stopped but it was freezing cold, the wind whipping them from the north. 

Henry wrapped his great coat about him. "I pray our marquis found a warm place to spend the night out of this cold."

"I am sure he did," Jeremy said. "He would not want to miss the war for sickness."

General Wayne laughed. "That is true, Jeremy. I believe that thought would cross our young friend's mind. One thing I can say for Gilbert, he is resourceful in the face of hardship. He has endured worst than this. Come, let's hurry. We have a seven hour ride to Albany."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

A little ways north of Albany, a group of rough looking buckskin clad men were hiding on each side of the road just beyond a covered bridge. Their leader was standing at the side of the road. He jerked his head when he heard a rider. "Here comes one, boys," he called out as he jumped down in a ditch. "Ready yourselves."

The men hunkered down behind the fresh snow banks.

As the rider cantered off the bridge into the open, five men jumped out and startled his horse causing it to rear up, but the man managed to stay on the animal's back. When the horse's hooves returned to the earth, the rider was confronted by muskets aimed at his head.

The leader came forward. He rubbed his hand over the stubble on his chin and stared at the young man on the horse. "What you doin' on this road, boy?"

"Headed to Canada."

A man guffawed and yelled, "A Frenchie is he? Not likely a loyalist, Seth."

Seth, the leader, said, "I've known a few Frenchies in the service of King George. They're the ones that lead the Indians on their little rampages through the countryside. Only ones that can speak to the Indians and be understood."

Seth poked the rider in the side with his musket. "Off the horse, boy. I'll decide whether you're goin' to Canada or not."

The young man dismounted and was immediately grabbed and handled roughly by several men. Their hands emptied his pockets and took his gun. One of the men found a folded note and handed it to Seth. The other men admired the gold and silver coins they had found. One man looked confused at the brass seal.

"So you are thieves?" the young Frenchman asked.

The men laughed. "Not exactly," Seth said. "We are Patriots. Green Mountain Boys from Vermont." Seth read the note. "So you're one of Lafayette's men are you?"

"Glad to know you can read," the rider snarled. "I would much rather be robbed by a literate thief than an illiterate."

Seth felt the anger rise up his spine. He stepped up to the young man, clearly showing him who was bigger and stronger. "This is not a time for you to be crackin' jokes little froggy. I might decide to crush you here and now, cut you up and dump the pieces somewhere where Lafayette will never find them. You would just disappear without a trace." Seth snapped his fingers in the air to emphasize his gruesome point.

"I suppose killing me would be about as patriotic as burning that Quaker's house south of Albany."

"How'd you know 'bout that?"

"They told me."

One of the men standing nearby said, "He's been fraternizin' with loyalists. I say we hang him."

"I think this note is fake," Seth said. "Why in the world would Lafayette be sending a lone man…" Seth looked up and down the young man. "Make that a skinny BOY...this far north? The Canadians don't have any money to share with us."

The young Frenchman sniffed. "You are right, Seth. It is fake. I am General Lafayette. I wrote that note so I could get through the sentries at West Point without being recognized."

The men gathered around him began laughing and mocking the young Frenchman. "Yeah right, and Seth is really King George and I'm Lord Howe! Haar! Haar!" The men rolled with laughter.

Seth took a step back, and looked over the young man before him. "Well, that is even more crazy. Why would Lafayette be ridin' north disguised as a commoner?"

The Frenchman was clearly growing tired of the game. He crossed his arms over his chest and locked angry dark eyes on Seth. "Look you can either kill me or let me pass. Just quit wasting time and be done with it. I am sure there are men following me intent on bringing me back to my senses."

A smile crept over Seth's face. "You're not foolin' me are you? You really are the one and only General Lafayette?"

The young man smirked at Seth. "That seal your illiterate friend is playing with says it is so."

All eyes went to the big man fumbling with the brass seal. The man did not realize he was the new center of attention. Seth pulled off his green died leather hat and scratched his head. "Well, I'll be…" Suddenly he felt a punch to his face, his head snapped back. _Damn_, was his only thought as the young Frenchman grabbed the upturned arm and swung Seth around with it, nearly breaking it behind his back. The big mountain man lost his balance and crashed to the ground face down. The Frenchman held his arm twisted behind his back, forcing a yelp of pain to cross Seth's lips. The men stirred, moved forward but stopped. Seth felt the cold of steel on the back of his neck.

"You men, drop your weapons or I will kill big Seth by decapitation. That means I will cut off his head for you simpletons." The men stepped back in horror which caused Lafayette to laugh. Lafayette whispered to Seth, "Hope this knife is sharp, I wouldn't want you to suffer needlessly." He yelled at the men, "I am Major General Lafayette of the Continental Army. Seth has led you into insubordination, if not mutiny."

"Do as he says," Seth said. "Throw down your weapons."

The men slowly obeyed, throwing their weapons to the ground.

"I am headed to Ticonderoga to see the ruins of the fort that you helped Arnold capture several years back".

Seth writhed on the ground trying to get free. He growled, "Arnold! Arnold only got in the way! It was Ethan Allen and us Green Mountain Boys that took that fort and swept out those Britishers."

"You are a blustering liar, a thief and a plunder," Lafayette declared. "You are just one of the many that want to take Arnold's glory from him."

"Glory! Boy, you been told a pack of lies if you think Arnold was anythin' but a damn weasel."

"You will address me as General!"

"All right. Take it easy, General. I'm just tellin' you the truth. It was us that took Fort Ticonderoga, not Arnold. I know. I was there right behind Ethan Allen when he entered that fort. Arnold spent the whole time hobnobbin' with the British officers once we had control of it."

"That was no doubt because he disagreed with your thievery and plunder."

"Listen, you can think what you want. I know what happened. I saw it with my own eyes. Ethan Allen rotted in a British prison for two years. You think they would've kept him there if they thought he was just a thief and a plunderer?"

The young general released his grip on Seth, but knelt on one knee and kept the knife on his neck. "I do not know what to think…yet. I just hanged a young British officer for his part in the play. I am trying to understand what would make a man like Arnold turn on his country. The country he fought valiantly for and shed blood for…"

Seth turned his head and looked into the young general's eyes. He saw weariness and despair that he had not seen earlier. "I know that man, General, and I can tell you that he did just what I would have expected him to do. He always had that look about him. He was out for himself and no other. What do you think he was doin' down there in Philadelphia? I tell you he was winin' and dinin' those loyalists, the Shippen's, and courtin' their loyalist daughter to gain favor with the British"

"You leave Peggy Shippen out of it! She is as much a victim as the rest of us."

"No…sir, you have that wrong, too."

Lafayette stood and moved to his horse, turning his back on Seth, who remained on his stomach on the road. Seth said, "You men give the general back his belongin's."

The men obeyed, silently. Seth scrambled up off the ground and walked over to the general. "Here's your note, sir. You might need it where you're headed. There are more of us about. I am Colonel Seth Warner of the Continental army. We are here on orders to harass the loyalists and find food and supplies for the Continentals. We don't hurt anyone without good reason. We would not have harmed you—"

"You shot an old Quaker in the leg so that he can not provide for his family."

Seth put his hands on his hips and exhaled forcefully. "That was an unfortunate accident. It was dark and one of my men thought he was comin' at him with a gun. You may reprimand us if you like, but it ain't fair you dressed as you are instead of in your uniform. We would not have stopped you if we had seen you were a Continental."

The general turned sharply around to face Seth. "I am giving you new orders today and when I come back through here tomorrow I expect to find you busy obeying them."

Seth frowned. "What orders might that be?"

"Return to the Wright farm and help that boy finish building his home. You get it weatherproofed and you return everything you stole from them. Then you make sure everyone around here knows not to bother that family because they are friends of the Green Mountain Boys."

"But General…"

Lafayette fixed stern dark eyes on Seth. His voice was deep and commanding. "It is non-negotiable. I will return, and I expect to find it well under way."

Seth swallowed hard and looked at his men. He didn't much like this boy general telling him what to do, and he knew his proud men were squirming in their boots. He had just been out-smarted and whooped by a damn skinny _dog-tired _boy in front of his own men. He let out the breath he had been holding. "General, shouldn't you have an escort up to the fort? You really shouldn't be travelin' alone out here, sir. You look a bit worn-out as well."

"That is my worry, not yours. You do what I have ordered. If you do not do as I have ordered, every one of you will be hunted down and treated like Cow Boys."

"Yes, sir."

General Lafayette took his own pistol offered to him by one of the men, and flipped the knife he held and offered it handle first to Seth. As he turned to climb back into his saddle, he swayed and fell against the horse, grabbing the horse's mane to stay upright. Seth caught the general and held him against the horse until he steadied himself. "Sir? You need rest--"

Lafayette jerked away from Seth. He was shaking and pale, but he swung himself into the saddle, kicked the flanks of his horse and rode away north on the river road, just as the snow was starting to swirl down from the sky again.

* * *

It was mid afternoon when General Wayne and the Yankee Doodle Society trotted their horses up to the Wright farm and saw a strange sight. Green Mountain Boys easily recognized by their dyed green buckskin and feathered hats were climbing over the frame of a house placing roof rafters. Two small children ran out from the stable to greet the riders. 

The little tow-headed boy said, "Thou a soldier, friend?"

General Wayne swung himself out of his saddle and stood looking down at the small boy. "My name is General Wayne. Where is your father?"

"He was shot in the leg by those men when they burned our home. Gilbert found 'em and sent 'em back here to fix it."

General Wayne smiled. "Gilbert?"

"Aye, that was his name. He was a Frenchman headed north. He stopped for the night and helped my brother Caleb raise the walls early this mornin'. Ain't it great?" The boy pointed to the house with pride.

"It sure is, son. Is Gilbert here now?"

"Nay," the little girl said. "He had to leave, but he said he would send men back to help us, and Mother says, by the grace of God, he kept his promise." The children ran off towards the stable yelling, "Mother, Caleb, come. There's a blue coated soldier here."

One of the men on the roof saw the horsemen and yelled, "Ho, there! General Wayne?"

General Wayne looked perplexed at the man. "Seth Warner, I don't remember ordering you to roof houses. Seems like the order was more along the lines of harassing the British and foraging for the army."

"Aye, sir." Seth jumped down off the roof and walked to the General's side. Seth towered over General Wayne, making the general lift his chin to equalize the situation. Jeremy, Isak and Henry looked at each other and shook their heads, trying not to laugh.

"Sir, there was a little change in our plans when we ran into General Lafayette. Do you know what he's up to?"

"Not exactly, do you?"

"He's headed up to Ticonderoga. He really didn't offer much of a reason that made any sense to me. He refused any guard, sir, or I would have sent some of these men with him. He didn't look like he should be traveling alone, sir. He looked a bit tuckered-out."

Wayne chuckled. "He wasn't so tuckered-out he couldn't give you a black eye."

Seth gave Wayne a crooked smile. "He and I didn't exactly…take a shining to each other, sir. I think he was mad about what we done here." Seth nudged his shoulder towards the house under construction.

"You and your men attacked a Quaker farm? What in the world for?"

"They are known to help the British, sir, with money and guides all under the guise of conscientious objection to war. They are just cowardly loyalists. We took what livestock they had intending to bring it to West Point today."

"I see. You have no proof that this particular family was aiding the enemy?"

Seth looked at the ground. "No, sir."

"Then I'd say you got your just deserts."

"Aye, sir."

Jeremy nudged his horse up beside General Wayne. "Should we not send someone back to General Greene to tell him Lafayette's destination?"

"Aye, Jeremy. General Greene will be tormented by worry in not knowing."

"Sir, if I may," Henry said. "I have had very little luck convincing General Lafayette to see things my way in the past, so I doubt that this will be any different. Let me return to Tappan alone and tell General Greene what we have learned and then I will ride back north and try to catch up with you. I can ride all night. I have done it before."

Before General Wayne could answer, a plainly dressed woman and teenage boy walked out from the stable. "Greetings, friend. My name is Caleb Wright and this is my mother Sarah. May we help thee? Are thee lost?"

"No. We are looking for a friend. A young dark-haired Frenchman by the name of Gilbert. Your little brother said he was here."

Caleb answered, "Yea. Thy friend blessed us with his presence. He left before noon, headed north. He did not tell us his destination."

The woman wrapped a shawl tight about her shoulders and shivered. "He was a good lad. He is not in trouble, I pray?" Sarah said.

"No ma'am. He is not in trouble. We are only concerned for him. If you will allow us to water our horses we will be on our way."

"Of course, friend. Be free."

"Thank you."

The men stood together, allowing the horses to drink their fill. General Wayne said, "All right, Henry. We will stay the night the other side of Albany. There is an inn near the ferry there. You can't miss it. If you ride hard, you can meet us there by dawn tomorrow." Wayne sneered at Henry. "I'm sure General Greene will appreciate being given the opportunity to order us about."

Henry missed the joke, but Jeremy and Isak did not. They smiled knowingly at each other. Henry said, "Aye, sir. I will be on my way then." He swung himself into his saddle and rode back towards the river road and south towards West Point.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

A group of boys of all ages, from seven to eighteen, sat in an old abandoned meetinghouse on the river road north between Stillwater and Saratoga, New York. The isolated meetinghouse sat on a hill above the river. It was snowing heavily outside. Most of the boys were well dressed, in full dress complete with white laced cravats and silk stockings. The buckles of their polished shoes glistened in the fire light. Only one boy looked different, he was dressed as a commoner, in a homespun coat and buckskin boots. He stood near the rear of the boys, silent, a permanent scowl on his face.

One of the older well-dressed boys said, "Geoffrey, your father will no doubt be on his way here now."

"Let him come. He will have to drag me home. It is time for me to take a stand against his tyranny."

The commoner, a large muscular boy with a roundish face yelled from the back, "Geoffrey Higgins you are full of brave talk now but when your pa shows up you will be crying for forgiveness."

"What do you know about it Brackmire? At least I have a father who gives a damn about me. You don't even have a father you stupid bastard!"

Brackmire stomped his way towards Geoffrey pushing the smaller boys out of his way. "You take that back Geoffrey Higgins!"

"I am only stating the truth."

"You are a liar! My father fights with the Patriots. I said take it back or I will beat the daylights out of you….you…weasel!"

"Don't you be callin' me names!"

Charles pushed himself between the two older boys. "Stop it! How can we stand up to the townsmen when we are fighting amongst ourselves?" The two angry boys pushed against Charles' outstretched hands, trying to stare each other down without success.

Charles struggled with the boys. "Stop it I say!"

There was a knock at the door, which ended the confrontation. Geoffrey ran to the window and looked out. He walked to the door and opened it to see a very cold shivering young man about his own age. Thinking him one of the students he said, "Come on in out of the cold."

"_Merci beaucoup,_ _mon ami_."

The boy turned and stared, surprised by the French words and accent. "Hey, you're not one of us?"

"That would depend on what you are, would it not?"

"Students of a closed university."

"Ah…then I am not one of you. I am just traveling north and needed to stop…the snow…"

"Of course, it is all right. We are stuck here ourselves. What do we call you?"

There was a large fireplace filled with a crackling fire at the end of the long meeting room. The newcomer took a deep breath and walked slowly towards the fire, across the wood plank floor. Geoffrey noted his knee high black riding boots. They looked like the boots of an officer in the army. When the stranger reached the fire, he removed his gloves and unbuttoned his coat. "I am Gilbert. So tell me. What is this about a closed university?"

"We were to start a new university here today," Charles said, "but our father's objected. They chased off the teachers with threats, and we are expecting them here soon to take us home."

"How is it your fathers let you come here in the first place?"

"They were told it would give us practical training for work with our hands."

"Then they were deceived?"

"They would not have allowed it," Geoffrey said, "if they had known the whole truth. This was to be a university just like Harvard or Yale, equal to any in Europe."

"Are your fathers loyalists?"

"Yes, most of them." Geoffrey gave Brackmire a stern look hoping to keep him quiet. "They believe that Oxford and Cambridge are the only universities, and that any attempt to create a university here is against the King and Mother England. The truth is, our fathers just want to keep us stupid and backward so that we won't challenge their beliefs and traditions."

Brackmire, the bigger boy said, "You speak of your own father, Higgins. My father is not the same. He is a Patriot."

"You don't have a father you stupid bully! Shut up and quit pretending that you do."

Brackmire's face grew red as he clenched his thick fists, but he remained quiet.

The young Frenchman stiffened and clasped his hands behind his back. He turned from the fire and flashed a dimpled grin at the boys. "Are you willing to suffer a little for your cause? Perhaps go without the sustenance from your fathers for a few days?"

"What do you have in mind?" Geoffrey asked. "We are willing to die for our cause."

Gilbert's eyebrows rose. "If you believe with all your hearts that you are right you must not leave this building. Stake your claim to it and let no man tell you otherwise, not even your fathers. If you leave the building, you are giving up."

The boys looked at one another for support and when they found it, they grinned and cheered. Geoffrey said, "We will stay, regardless of who comes to remove us, but I am the leader of this group. I am the oldest. I will be the King—"

The Frenchman rolled his eyes to the ceiling before bringing them back to focus on Geoffrey. "Please, no Kings. Why not be President like Mr. Laurens of the Congress?"

Geoffrey crossed his arms defiantly. "No! I want to be King like King George of England."

"If you want to be different than your father, you must be bold and courageous and adopt different titles and different ways of doing things."

Geoffrey thought for a moment. "All right. You shall all call me President Geoffrey. I will do all of the talking." Geoffrey spied the pistol in Gilbert's belt. He said, "Gilbert shall be my military adviser. You shall call him Captain Gilbert." All the boys cheered for President Geoffrey, and Captain Gilbert, except Brackmire. He stood in the back scowling.

The young Frenchman hunched his shoulders and rubbed his hands. "Well then, it is settled. Is there any food on the property?"

"There is a cellar," Geoffrey said. "I have no idea what it contains."

"I _advise_ you to find out President Geoffrey."

The boys ran outside followed by Gilbert. They found the cellar door locked. Gilbert shot off the lock and lifted the door allowing the boys to clamber down the stairs. They came up with several crates stamped with foreign names. Back in the meetinghouse they pried open the tops of the crates, pulled out straw and discovered dark bottles of wine with fancy labels. Every crate was full of wine.

"Why would there be wine stored in an old Quaker meeting house?" Charles asked with a perplexed look. "The Quakers don't drink."

"I warrant our fathers know that it is here," one of the boys said. "They have probably been stashing it here for their town council meetings." The boys laughed.

One boy said, "My father's the mayor of Stillwater and sometimes he comes home drunk from those meetings."

"Yeah," Charles said, "come to think of it, my father does the same. Mother has suspected him of hiding it somewhere in the barn. Maybe this is the reason for their objections to our school. They want this place to themselves."

"There was no food of any kind?" Gilbert said.

"No, sir. Not a smidgeon."

"You boys cannot drink this. It will make you sick."

The boys immediately whined at the injustice. "But we want to sacrifice."

Gilbert waved his hand to quiet them. "All right, but you must mix it with water. Is there a well here?"

"Yes," Brackmire said. He turned to a smaller boy of about eight years and pushed him. "Jake, go fetch some water."

"You do it! You're not my governor you stupid clodpate."

"Boys," Gilbert said impatiently, "we must have discipline and order if we are to stand up to our enemies. Since you have made me your military leader, I will appoint tasks for each of you. Everyone must lend a hand."

The defiant Jake said, "Oh, yes sir. I want to be a good soldier." He clapped his heels together and saluted sharply. "I will retrieve water for the group if that is your wish, Captain Gilbert."

Gilbert smiled. "So be it Jake. You are appointed water retriever."

Gilbert picked up one of the wine bottles and pulled out the cork with some difficulty. "This is very expensive Madeira wine. The American congress has ordered it boycotted. Someone has smuggled it. It might not be your fathers, boys. You should not be so hasty to place blame upon them."

"But Gilbert," Geoffrey said, "they are the only ones with the keys. There is no other way into the cellar but through that door."

Gilbert tasted the wine and seemed pleased with it, which made the other boys want to try it. They scrambled to open more of the bottles. Gilbert made the boys pour half of the wine out of each bottle they opened and then pour water in the half-empty bottles.

Gilbert spent the next couple of hours leading the boys in repeating Thomas Jefferson's constitution in both English and French, and Thomas Paine's 'Common Sense,' and then appearing to be growing bored himself, he sang the first stanza of Yankee Doodle:

Father and I went down to camp,  
Along with Captain Gooding;  
And there we saw the men and boys,  
As thick as hasty pudding.

The boys laughed and immediately sung the chorus:

Yankee doodle, keep it up,  
Yankee doodle dandy;  
Mind the music and the step,  
And with the girls be handy.

Gilbert smiled, clearly pleased with the boys for knowing the song. He sang the second verse:

There was Captain Washington  
Upon a slapping stallion,  
A-giving orders to his men,  
I guess there was a million.

The boys repeated the chorus, this time stomping their feet in time with the music:

Yankee doodle, keep it up,  
Yankee doodle dandy;  
Mind the music and the step,  
And with the girls be handy.

In the silence that followed the chorus, there was a knocking at the door. Gilbert motioned to Geoffrey to go to the door. Before he could open it, someone banged violently on the door making him jump back. A loud voice yelled from outside, "Geoffrey Higgins! This is your father. Come out here at once."

Geoffrey looked at Gilbert for advice. Gilbert shook his head. Geoffrey yelled at the door, "I will not come out! I and my fellow students will stay in this building until the university is reopened and the teachers brought back and paid for the time they lost." Geoffrey stood straight and looked proudly at Gilbert who winked at him.

The disembodied voice on the opposite side of the door growled, "Boy, you dare to speak to your father in such an insolent tone? Why I will bust this door down and drag you out by your ears you brazen pup!"

Geoffrey looked concerned at the door wondering if his father would indeed bust down the door. His legs began to shake but he stayed at the door. He felt a firm hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Gilbert standing behind him.

Gilbert called out, "Sir. The boys are only asking for a chance to show you that this school is worthwhile. Will not you and your fellow townsmen even consider their argument? Any decent father would at least listen to a son that wanted an education. They may be wrong in deceiving you of its purpose, but you are equally wrong in your tyranny against them. "

"And who the blazes are you?"

"My name is Gilbert."

"Zheel-bear? You sound like a damn Frenchie. What are you doing with our boys?"

"Teaching them about Liberty and Common Sense, and the words to Yankee Doodle."

The boys laughed.

Brackmire yelled out, "And how to drink your wine ye old Tory goat!"

Gilbert frowned at Brackmire.

"My wine?" There was an extended silence from the other side of the door.

"He has called a council of war," Gilbert said.

Another voice came to the door. "Charles Standish, Jr? Are you in there?"

Charles came forward. "I am."

"Come out at once. I am taking you home. Your mother is very worried."

"I shall not leave this building, sir!"

"You will not leave? Why you… I can smell wine from out here. You good-for-nothing scoundrel of a son! You and your friends have broken into that Madeira wine in the cellar and by God you will all pay for it by the skin of your backsides!"

"I am not good for nothing!" Charlie proclaimed. "I am good for something I tell you. So NOW we know the truth. You men were stashing this wine away and using this meetinghouse for God knows what. I swear I will tell Mother if you don't give us what we want Father." The young man slammed his fist into the door.

The men outside yelled obscenities and beat on their side of the door. The boys stood their ground, although the younger ones were doing so with tears streaming down their faces. When the men rode away, the boys cheered.

Geoffrey jumped up on one of the tables and said, "We have won the first round. They may come back with a battering ram, or torches, but by God, we have won the first round. We are men today!" There was much cheering, slapping on the back and jumping up and down, as boys will do. Geoffrey called for two of the empty wine crates to be hoisted on top of the table. He sat down on one and said, "Captain Gilbert, you shall sit on my right side." Gilbert obeyed the young president. The young president looked for his rival Brackmire, but he was not in the room. "Where is Brackmire?" he yelled.

Charles went to one of the large windows. "He is headed down the road after those men. Why is he doing that? Should we go drag him back in here?"

"No! He is not one of us."

"What do you mean?" Gilbert asked. "He is a student too, is he not?"

"He is the bastard child of old man Paley who is the town drunk. Everyone knows that, but he goes around telling all who will listen that his father is a famous rebel leader. He is a liar and bully. I do not want him here."

Gilbert frowned. "He may be a troubled boy, Geoffrey, but that is no reason to excommunicate him."

"Ex…what? You are to call me President, remember?"

Gilbert dropped his head in his hands and rubbed his temples. "Of course, boys will be boys -- and boys become men."

* * *

Wayne and his companions had just left the Wright farm and returned to the river road that ran along side the Hudson when a group of riders bore down on them from the north, blocking the road. They were older men, civilians. "General Wayne? Is that you?" 

"It is."

"My name is Charles Standish from Stillwater. These are my fellow townsmen."

"The whole town? What business do you want with me?"

"We believe some rebel from your camp has stirred up our sons at the Stillwater meetinghouse. They are refusing to leave the building and disobeying their own fathers. They have the fool notion that we are going to capitulate to their demands."

"Their demands, sir?"

"We closed their infernal 'university' before it ever was started. We have no intention of allowing such an establishment in our community. Some rebel 'do-gooders' filled our boys' heads with their vile notions of higher education. It only breeds sin and sedition in the youth as we know from the likes of Harvard and Yale. The only universities are Oxford and Cambridge in England. We believe that is the only rightful place for them."

Wayne raised his dark brows. "You do not want your boys educated?"

One of the men yelled, "They get their education at home as it has always been. We are simple farmers and merchants. We have no need for the idle talk of intellectuals. We sure don't want them in our home."

Wayne shook his head in disbelief. "Now, let me get this straight. You believe that one of my men has led your boys to take over this meetinghouse?"

"Who else could it be? A British soldier or a loyalist would not do such a thing. It was a young Frenchman by the name of Gilbert speaking of liberty and common sense and Yankee Doodle. He has all the boys drunk with wine to boot! This boy here saw it all. Brackmire come forward and tell General Wayne what you saw and heard."

A tall muscular boy slid down off the back of one of the horses and approached the front. The boy hesitated, standing soberly quiet not able to meet the general's eyes. One of the men on horseback nudged the boy with his boot. "Go on boy, your tongue was loose enough when you caught up with us."

The boy stuttered, "S-sir, I was there when the boy named Gilbert showed up. He talked the other boys into taking over the meetinghouse and defying the townsmen's order to shut down the school. I saw him shoot off the lock on the cellar door and order the boys to bring out the wine that was stored there. He told the boys to drink the wine."

General Wayne looked angrily down at the boy. "Are you telling the truth boy? The devil will get your tongue tonight if you aren't. You will never speak again."

The boy shivered before General Wayne. He dropped his head. "I am telling the truth. A Brackmire never lies."

Wayne turned around grinning and winked at Jeremy, Henry and Isak, and then he turned back to the townsmen with a straight face. "Gentlemen, I would love to help you, but I don't recall any Gilbert in my army. It must be some Canadian just having some fun. I'm sure your boys will come home with their stomachs are empty."

"Are you refusing to help us, sir?"

"Why, yes, that is so. I am refusing to help you. I have no time to deal with misbehaving-young--" Wayne stopped, sighed, and started again. "I have an important mission to attend to farther north. There is a war going on you know."

"Then we will ride south until we find a rebel leader who will help us, and if we get no help we will ride to British headquarters."

"I can assure you that you are making too much of this incident. Go home and wait for your sons to come crawling back to you."

"It may be too late for that. That French boy has probably convinced them to join your damned army."

"Well, is that so bad?"

The man huffed and threw up his arm indicating for his friends to follow. General Wayne, Jeremy and Isak nudged their horses out of the road to allow the group of angry men to pass receiving scowls for their trouble.

After the townsmen picked up Brackmire and rode off, Jeremy said, "Surely, they are not talking about General Lafayette. Perhaps we are on the trail of the wrong Gilbert."

General Wayne drew in a tight breath and let it out with a whistle. "Nay, Jeremy. It is our marquis, perhaps a little intoxicated, but our marquis."

Jeremy looked askance at General Wayne. "Sir, I have never seen Lafayette intoxicated."

"Is that so?" The general took a deep breath and exhaled. He looked off towards the river, pulled up the collar of his great coat and adjusted his hat. He turned back and squinted at Jeremy. "And you have expectations that you will never see him intoxicated? You truly believe that General Lafayette never behaved badly, never swore, never spit in anger, punched someone in the face for fun, or winked at a pretty girl?"

Jeremy looked puzzled. "That would not be the Lafayette I know, sir. What you describe is contrary to his nature…except maybe the winking at pretty girls."

"Well, ain't _he_ just the darling boy of the revolution? We should put a crown on him and call him king."

"Sir?" Jeremy looked shocked at the general and then turned to Isak who was equally as shocked. In a second, the shock turned to anger. The boys turned scowling faces at the general. "Sir, what exactly is your purpose in following Lafayette?" Jeremy demanded. "Is jealousy driving your desire to catch him 'behaving badly'? If so, I will have none of it."

"That goes for me to, sir," Isak growled.

Wayne slapped his hand over his heart and laughed. "Don't shoot me with those eyes boys, I'm only kidding. I love Gilbert like a brother. I would die before I would do him wrong. I am concerned that you boys…well…" The general dropped his head and gripped his reins tight for a moment seeming to search for words. He looked up with a serious frown. "I 'poke' people to find where they are most vulnerable. You two have a soft spot where General Lafayette is concerned. You have very high expectations of him. I only hope he doesn't fall off the pedestal you and he have so carefully constructed." Wayne spurred his horse forward. The boys followed, perplexed by the general's tough words.

The snow was falling heavily, making it treacherous to see the road. General Wayne, Jeremy and Isak reached the Riverboat Inn just north of Albany in the late afternoon. The sky was dark gray, thick with clouds.

"Looks like a continuation of our snowstorm," Wayne said. "Perhaps General Lafayette has had to hold up at that meetinghouse. If we keep riding a few more hours we might 'catch' him there."

"Sir, that would be unwise," Isak said. "The horses are lathered from being ridden so hard. It is unlikely we will find replacement horses here. Those Green Mountain Boys have probably claimed them all for the cause."

"We told Henry we would wait here," Jeremy said, "to hear General Greene's orders."

Wayne huffed and dismounted. "Very well. If Lafayette is at that meetinghouse, perhaps he will remain there for the night. At least we know where he is headed."

* * *

At the meetinghouse, the rebellion continued unchecked. There was too much readily available wine and too little food on the premises. Gilbert knew he was intoxicated from the wine, but his stomach growled and the wine seemed to be relieving his hunger. He had the boys singing rounds of Yankee Doodle and he was sure they were inventing new stanzas because he didn't recognize them anymore. He directed them from a lofty position, astride his 'throne,' which was a wine crate sitting precariously on a table at the head of the large room. 

Charles approached Gilbert and bowed. "Captain Gilbert, are you hungry? There is game without."

"_Oui_, Charles, but I am the only one with a gun and I fear I can not shoot straight right now."

"What shall we do?"

"You will not die of hunger. Think of it as a fasting for the cause. It is a small sacrifice to make for your education."

The boy seemed satisfied with Gilbert's answer and returned to the singing.

Gilbert looked out through the large multi-paned windows of the meetinghouse and saw the darkness growing and the snow coming down heavy creating a thick white blanket as far as the eye could see. He had spent time in Albany and knew he was only about four hours ride from Ticonderoga. It would be treacherous approaching the ruins after dark, and he would freeze to death when he got there. He decided he would stay the night with the boys and leave at dawn.

A pang of concern crossed Gilbert's mind that someone was pursuing him and might catch up with him preventing him from reaching his goal. He tried to picture that person in his mind, but could not think of a single name or face, though he knew many people in America. The only name that came to mind was Washington and he knew it was not Washington following him, but for some reason the thought brought tears to his eyes. Suddenly he was aroused from his private thoughts by another boy, this time it was a small blond headed boy. Gilbert thought he was seeing things. The boy looked like a younger version of Jeremy Larkin. _Ah,_ he thought, _Jeremy Larkin is pursuing me_.

"Captain Gilbert, I am bored!" the boy whined. "You must let me go home or give me something to do."

Gilbert started to climb down from his 'throne' but somehow ended up on his back on the floor. He raised up on his elbows and focused on the boy. "No. The storm is too bad. You must stay until morning. I promise you will be safe. What is your name?"

"Jeremy."

Gilbert thought he must have been dreaming, or the wine was playing tricks on him. He sat up and took the small lad in his arms. He was more than willing to accept the affection since no one else was paying him any mind. "Little Jeremy, I will take care of you. Do not worry. Everything will be all right. You will be back with your family tomorrow."

"The Redcoats are not coming to kill us?"

"_Non_, what? Who told you that?"

"Brackmire told me before he left"

"He was just trying to scare you. The British are far away from here. A blue-coated soldier or two might show up in the night. Do not fear them, all right? They are our friends."

"If you say so, Gilbert." Little Jeremy scrunched up his face and peered at Gilbert with squinted eyes. "I know where Brackmire lives. Do you want me to go spy on him? I am a very good spy. All armies need spies."

Gilbert laughed. "No, little Jeremy. That will not be necessary."

The boy placed his head on Gilbert's shoulder and promptly fell asleep. Watching the boys still cavorting around the large room, Gilbert realized he was seeing double. There were twice as many boys as before. He shook his head and scooted under the table with Jeremy, curled up and tried to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Henry reached Greene's headquarters at midnight and found General Greene in his office with one guard at the door. Henry was explaining to the general that they had discovered that Lafayette was headed for Ticonderoga, when suddenly the young guard barged through the door in a panic. He glanced at Henry, but rapidly explained his intrusion, "General Greene, a group of riders have arrived here at headquarters. The men are from the town of Stillwater. It seems someone, they think one of ours, convinced the sons of the town to bar themselves into a meetinghouse demanding that their university be reopened. They only know the man's name was Gilbert and he was not much older than the boys. One of the boys is with them claiming that this Gilbert made the boys drunk on wine."

General Greene dropped his head in his hands. He leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on the table in front of him. "Oh, Gilbert, how could you? Why? Why? Why?"

"The men are demanding that you do something about this. The townspeople do not want the university in their midst. They voted to close it and they say closed it will stay. They are threatening to ride to the British headquarters if we refuse to help them."

Greene raised his head suddenly, his eyes wide, alarmed by some private thought. "Go tell them I am in a meeting and will attend to their concerns shortly. Wake up Lieutenant Berke and have him see that they and their horses are cared for. Tell Berke to treat them with the utmost respect, to keep them happy." He stared with stern eyes and pointed a forefinger at the private. "Under no circumstances is General Washington to be notified of this unfortunate event."

"Yes, sir." The young guard left as quickly as he had entered, shutting the door behind him.

"General Lafayette, sir?"

Greene nodded and frowned. He rolled his head back and rubbed the back of his neck. The general had clearly not slept well. Henry knew why. "Sir, I thought I was bringing you news that would ease your mind about young Lafayette. It looks like those Stillwater men have trumped my news with their own causing you more worry. They must have been very close on my heels."

"Aye, Henry. You must ride back to General Wayne with my orders. General Lafayette is to return to that meetinghouse at once and tell those boys to go home and then he is to return here to headquarters, to ME, without delay."

Henry heard the change in tone and knew it meant General Greene was not happy with General Lafayette. "Yes, sir."

"You can get a fresh horse from the livery." The general peered at Henry with narrowed eyes. "You are not too tired? I could send another."

"Nay, sir. I promised them I would return by dawn tomorrow. And return I shall." Henry was worried for General Lafayette. He did not want anyone else knowing about the Frenchman's little journey from reason.

* * *

Just before dawn the next morning, Henry showed up at the Riverboat Inn, knocking on Jeremy's door. A groggy Jeremy got up and opened the door, he peered at Henry through squinted eyes, obviously still half asleep. "Henry, you made it." He left Henry at the open door and returned to fall face down on the bed. Henry shrugged, closed the door and stumbled his way to the bed. Finding an empty spot clear of Jeremy, he curled himself up and went to sleep.

* * *

Gilbert awoke startled. He didn't remember where he was until he saw little Jeremy curled up asleep against the wall. Gilbert crawled out from under the table. He felt horrible. He remembered the sickness from Fishkill, when he succumbed to the celebrations of each town he passed through on his way to the ship that would carry him home to France. Even the name of 'Fishkill' now filled him with a wave of nausea. His head was pounding and he still felt intoxicated from the wine. Most of the boys were asleep on the floor. A few were sleeping sitting up in the chairs. They looked pitiful. He stood up, stumbled, and felt a sharp pain in his gut. He bent over and sucked in his stomach, holding it tight until the pain dissipated. Seeing an open wine bottle half-full, he grabbed it and guzzled it down in hopes of putting off the inevitable alcohol sickness. The sky was lightening outside. Dawn had arrived and he had to continue his journey. 

He began shaking the boys trying to wake them. Once he had roused most of them he said, "Men, I think you have won the day. I must go now and continue on my journey." A wave of nausea overcame him for a moment causing him to sway. He grabbed the back of a nearby chair and waited for the dizzy feeling to subside. He held up the empty wine bottle. "I fear that the wine has gone to my head. You men, stay away from this. It will make you very sick. Believe me, I speak from experience. You do not want to be in my condition, do you?" The boys shook their heads solemnly.

"Oh Gilbert," Geoffrey pleaded, "but you are our military leader, please don't leave us now. Our fathers will return and kill us."

"I must go, but I will appoint a second in command." He looked over the boys and pointed at the tallest one. A red headed freckled good-natured looking boy. "You sir, what is your name?"

"Thomas, sir. Thomas Thackery of Albany."

"Thomas Thackery of Albany, I appoint you head man in charge of this company. All right men, three cheers for Thomas Thackery of Albany!"

The boys immediately complied and soon had Thomas Thackery of Albany up on their shoulders marching him about the room.

Gilbert slipped out while they were distracted. He stumbled a bit as he walked to the nearby stable to saddle his horse. Saddling the horse was very difficult, but he was soon headed north at full gallop. He held on to the mane of the horse with both hands to stay in the saddle, thankful no one else could see his sloppy horsemanship. At least the snow had stopped falling.

* * *

General Wayne, Jeremy and Isak met for breakfast in the Inn's dining room. Looking at the other two, Jeremy said, "Henry is here, but I think we should let him sleep through breakfast. He mumbled something about General Greene ordering Lafayette to return to that meetinghouse and send the boys home." 

General Wayne chuckled. "Poor Henry. He is an educated man I presume?"

"Yes, sir," Jeremy said. "A Harvard graduate and a genius."

"I am amazed at his patience then for this little expedition."

Isak chuckled. "Henry has a lot of patience, it is the rest of us that don't always have patience for Henry."

"Are you boys really close to Lafayette?"

Jeremy glanced at Isak and shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose we are, sir. We consider him a friend and he calls us 'friends'. I am afraid we have little understanding of military protocol. We tend to express our differences of opinion more than the soldiers and question his decisions at times. The general is very tolerant of us. Especially, Henry. Sometimes Henry doesn't know when to back off."

"I wonder sometimes if we are just a bother to Lafayette," Isak said.

"A bother?" General Wayne looked puzzled. "The Yankee Doodle Society's exploits on behalf of this cause are well-known. There is no way that Lafayette would consider you boys anything but dedicated patriot volunteers. I know him well enough to say that with some certainty."

"We are honored to serve him, sir."

General Wayne held up his forefinger. "Ah. He would say that you serve the cause and he serves you." Wayne leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table. He cocked his head and peered into the eyes of each of the young men one at a time. "When we find our marquis, he may not be…himself. Are you each sure you can handle that?"

"Sir, we are only concerned for him as you are," Jeremy said. "If he needs us, all three of us want to be there for him. He has done a great deal for us in good times and bad. You seem concerned that we may judge him harshly and turn our backs on him if we find him behaving different then normal. I can assure you that will never happen." Isak nodded at Jeremy's words.

General Wayne smiled. "Very good."

The men finished their coffee in silence. When they got up to leave, Jeremy ran up the stairs to get Henry. He came back with Henry stumbling, barely awake; his coat buttoned askew, his glasses crooked.

Isak and General Wayne laughed at the sight. Jeremy helped Henry climb up on his horse and they rode off north on the river road. Jeremy kept an eye on Henry who was lagging behind and 'bouncing' in his saddle but managing to stay mounted.

When they reached the meetinghouse, which sat on a slight rise in full of view of the river road, Wayne checked his horse. "It looks awfully peaceful up there to be the source of such rancor on the part of those townsmen."

"Do you think the general is still there?" Isak asked.

"Possibly, but he may be keen to stay ahead of us. I'm sure he suspects he is being followed."

The men walked their horses up the lane that led to the meetinghouse. They saw no signs of life. Jeremy jumped down from his horse and walked to the door. He tried the knob but found it locked. He knocked. A young voice called out from within, "Go away! We are not going to leave until this school is re-opened.

Jeremy smiled. "Fine with me. I am looking for a friend named Gilbert. Is he here?"

The boyish voice yelled, "He has left. It is just us now. I am Thomas Thackery of Albany, who are you?"

"I am Jeremy Larkin of Chester. Will you let me and my friends inside to warm ourselves a bit?"

"You say you are friends of Gilbert?"

"Yes. We are very good friends of Gilbert."

"We can see you have weapons. Put them down outside and we will let you enter."

Jeremy called out to his friends, "They want us to drop our weapons."

Henry, Isak and General Wayne pulled their pistols out of their holsters and tossed them on the road. General Wayne dismounted and removed his sword and lifted it high for the boys to see. He tossed it on the road.

The boy inside said, "Right, then."

Jeremy heard the key turned on the inside. The old door creaked open to reveal a large room. There were boys of all ages sitting and reclining on the wood plank floor, in the chairs and on the tables. The room was disheveled. Jeremy motioned to his friends to follow him as he crossed the threshold and stepped over bodies to get near the inviting fire on the opposite side of the room. He passed empty wine bottles and saw the crates stacked near the fireplace and on one of the tables. "You boys have a party here last night?"

"Sort of," Thomas said. "We only had the wine for sustenance. There is no food here. We are fasting for our cause."

Jeremy laughed. "I suppose that's one way to look at it."

General Wayne, Henry and Isak walked in and joined Jeremy at the fire. General Wayne turned around and faced the boys. "You younglings need to go home. Your fathers have ridden to Tappan to get help from the American army to evict you."

The boys laughed. "Good for them," one of the boys yelled. "Is Mr. George Washington going to forsake the war to come and evict us then?"

"Not exactly." Wayne winced. "At least I hope not. Where did you get all this wine? That boy Brackmire said Gilbert made you drink it."

One of the older boys stepped forward. "That is a lie, sir! Brackmire is a traitor."

General Wayne laughed. "Benedict would be proud."

"We found the wine in the cellar. It was our father's secret stash. We figured out they have been using this meetinghouse for their own secret rendezvous disguised as town council meetings. They will have hell to pay for that when we tell our mothers."

General Wayne's eyebrows shot up. "Whoa! You best be careful now. Breaking up happy marriages is not a noble cause."

"We will not tell," Thomas said, "if our fathers allow us to have our university."

"You would blackmail your own fathers?"

"If that's what it takes."

"Did Gilbert tell you to do that?"

"No. We decided that on our own. Gilbert only told us not to leave the building or we have lost our cause."

General Wayne gave a sigh of relief. "I see. If Gilbert returns and tells you to go home, will you go?"

Thomas assured him, "We will do anything Gilbert tells us to do. We would follow him to the ends of the earth if he asked."

General Wayne smiled and winked at his companions who were grinning as well. "Very well. We will leave now. Perhaps we will see you again soon. I bet you all are getting hungry. You best leave off this wine. It will make you very sick if you drink too much."

A little blond headed boy stepped up to the general. "Gilbert would not let us drink it, sir, unless we mixed it with water."

General Wayne put his hand on the boy's head. "That was very wise of Gilbert but I bet he didn't follow his own advice did he?"

The little boy shook his head. "He was drunk as a skunk when he left here."

"Jeremy, shut up!" Thomas ordered. "You are tattling on Gilbert. You will get him in trouble. This man is probably his commander."

Wayne laughed. "You see him head north?"

The little boy said, "Yes, sir. I watched out the window."

General Wayne motioned for Jeremy, Henry and Isak to follow him. He marched across the wood floor to the door in long quick strides with them trailing him trying to keep up. They left the meetinghouse, retrieved their weapons and hurried to their horses. Jeremy said, "Sir, what's the matter?"

"If he had too much of that wine, General Lafayette may be lying on the side of the road. We best hurry to him."

They mounted their horses and galloped away from the meetinghouse.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

As General Wayne and the Yankee Doodle Society approached Ticonderoga, they had to negotiate the 'French Lines', the entrenchments the American's had inherited from the last war and had carefully repaired for a British assault. It slowed them down, but when they reached what remained of the fortification they found a saddled horse without a rider and nothing but a steep climb over stacked stone walls keeping them from the garrison. Wayne stepped down heavily from his horse. He put his hands on his hips and stared up at the ruins.

Jeremy noted there was something awesome about the place. Heroic Americans had risen up, joined together, and taken this fort from the British. It was their first victory of the war with Britain. It all seemed so long ago. "Sir, do you want me to go up first?"

Wayne shook his head. "No. I will go first. If I fail to breach the defenses, then it will be your turn."

Jeremy chuckled as Wayne sauntered towards the first craggy rock ledges. It was a tough climb for anyone, but Wayne made it look easy with long determined strides. He quickly disappeared behind the high rocks leaving the three young friends to wait.

* * *

General Wayne didn't have to look far for Lafayette. He was standing with his tall lean body in silhouette against the gray overcast sky. His hands were clasped behind his back. Wayne knew the pose well and could have identified Lafayette standing just like that in a fog with a bare ray of moonlight. He called out as he approached. "General Lafayette?" 

Lafayette turned his head. "General Wayne! Come to save the wayward youth, have you?"

Wayne heard the slurred speech and knew it was the wine. "Did you really think I would believe you went east to Hartford?"

"No, but I made you think twice before heading north, did I not?"

"Aye. What's going on friend? You sound like you got a little too familiar with a bottle of Madeira. That's not like you."

"No it is not. It was…an unfortunate consequence…." Lafayette swayed forward as a strong wind buffeted him.

Wayne, startled, rushed forward, but checked himself a few feet from the young man. "Gilbert, please step away from the edge of the cliff. I don't want you to have another 'unfortunate consequence'."

Lafayette laughed. "I did not come here to throw myself on the rocks if that is your concern, Anthony."

"I know Gilbert. We are only worried because you left in such a hurry with no guards."

"We? Who is we?"

"General Greene and myself."

In a voice cautious with the inexperience of youth, Lafayette asked, "Is Nathanael disappointed in me?"

"Of course not. He is only worried and…"

"And what?"

"He wants you to return to that school and tell those boys to go home. The whole town of Stillwater is angry with you, though they do not know exactly who they are angry with."

Lafayette laughed and leaned against the remains of the stone wall at his side causing fear to shoot through Wayne's nerves again. "Then it is a good thing I did not tell the boys I was Lafayette. We had a little Benedict Arnold among our group of loyalist offspring that spoke like a friend."

Wayne walked cautiously up to Lafayette and put his hand on the young man's arm. "Please, sir, step back away from here to safety."

"Safety? General Wayne, I did not come to America to find safety."

"Yes, sir. I only want you to live so that you might die bravely in battle on American soil," Wayne added with a wry grin.

Lafayette snickered, but leaned back towards the larger man whose body was blocking the biting cold wind. Wayne wrapped his large arms around the younger general and pulled him away from the cliff. "General Lafayette, you and I have many more battles to fight before this thing called Liberty is won. You can lean on me and you can trust me. I'm no Benedict Arnold. You want to tell me why you felt the need to come here?"

"That name will be synonymous with 'traitor' one day, Anthony."

"Yes, sir. It already is as 'Lafayette' is synonymous with 'hero' with all the young people of this land." Wayne felt moisture welling in his eyes. Seeing Lafayette shaken disturbed him greatly. It forced him for the first time to think of Arnold. He had not dealt with his own anger over the treason and here he was trying to help a friend deal with it. Wayne wanted to personally get even with Arnold. Gruesome images of stomping the traitor to death came to mind. Lafayette was a flame of optimism for this cause and that flame was flickering before him, threatening its extinction. The boy never required alcohol to be his buoyant bubbling joyful self. Wayne tried to fight back the tears. He thought of the three young men waiting at the bottom of the cliffs. He thought of their expectations. Through clenched teeth, he said, "Gilbert, there are three young friends of yours that accompanied me here to find you. Do you think you can sober up a little and greet them?"

"Who are they?" whispered a breathless Lafayette struggling to breath. General Wayne realized he was squeezing his young friend too tight and loosened his grip.

"Captain Yankee Doodle and company."

Lafayette jerked free of Wayne. "I forgot about them."

"Yes, you did. Ditched them as a matter of fact, but it's all right. They understand—"

"They understand what?" Lafayette demanded. General Wayne knew that guilt was driving the sudden anger. The young man was already showing signs of sobering.

"They didn't want to chase after you, Gilbert. I was the ringleader. Please, blame me if you have need to blame."

Lafayette turned and scowled at Wayne. "I do not need your pity or anyone else's!"

Wayne stood at attention and saluted. "Yes, sir! Then are you going to accompany me down off this freezing ruin of a rock?"

"No! You can go jump in the Hudson and swim with the fishes, Anthony Wayne. I will do as I please. You are not my commander."

Wayne sighed. "Very well." He turned and walked away. "I am leaving, General Lafayette. Don't forget General Greene's order to return to that school…"

"Good riddance. Have a pleasant swim back to West Point."

* * *

The trio waiting at the bottom of the cliff showed disappointment on their faces as General Wayne returned to them without Lafayette. General Wayne jumped down from the last stone wall and brushed off his hands. "Your turn, Jeremy. He told me to go jump in the Hudson." 

Jeremy climbed down from his horse and took a deep breath. He looked at his friends for support but only received worried looks. He started the climb up.

* * *

Jeremy approached Lafayette slowly, not wanting to startle him. The general was peering out over the cold barren landscape of the Ticonderoga peninsula. Jeremy could tell that once a mighty ancient forest had stood here. Now the trees were gone, stripped, destroyed by cannon fire or cut for campfires. The landscape was gray and depressing as death. Lafayette was standing very close to the edge of a cliff, on the remains of a redoubt overlooking the river. It was a strange ghostly sight that filled Jeremy with a sudden rush of anxiety. He realized it was apprehension of Lafayette's rejection. _Silly boyish notion_, Jeremy thought. Jeremy stopped a few feet from the general. He feared that if he startled him, he would fall off the redoubt to his death. 

The young man before him was not an American and Jeremy realized maybe for the first time that a gulf existed between himself and this man he considered a friend. It was more than the Atlantic Ocean that separated France from America and Frenchmen from Americans. He felt a discomfort in standing so near Lafayette in silence. Unbeknownst to himself, Jeremy cleared his throat.

The general turned his head slowly and locked mournful dark eyes on him. "Jeremy Larkin. Have you come to save me, too?"

"Only if you need saving…sir." Jeremy berated himself for always forgetting the 'sir'. It sounded insincere.

Lafayette chuckled. "Apparently, it is not I that needs saving, but the poor innocents that inhabitant this land that need saving from me."

"Well…sir…you _were_ kind of rough on those Green Mountain Boys." The general laughed brightly, which gave Jeremy encouragement and so he continued, "As for the innocents that were so lucky to have fallen in your path…I can only say from my own experience…they are counting that chance encounter as a blessing."

The general remained silent. He turned away from Jeremy.

"Sir, it is freezing cold up here. Please descend with me out of the wind to shelter."

"Your general has disappointed you today."

"Nay, Sir! Arnold's treason is the only disappointment. Why would I or anyone else think less of you for grieving the loss? General, I know about the French soldiers at Newport and Gustave. General Greene found the note in your coat pocket. Everyone is worried sick about you. Our only concern is your welfare. If you don't want to come back, or if you decide to go home and forget you ever saw America…" Jeremy's voice cracked as tears formed in his eyes. "Whatever you decide is all right with me, sir. I will understand. I would not blame you for being thoroughly disgusted with Americans right now…"

The general turned and eyed Jeremy. "You would not think less of me?"

Jeremy signed. "No, I would not think less of you. I would think less of the men that let it happen. Men like Arnold, Mifflin, Conway and Gates, and the Congress that refuses to feed and clothe the army. So called 'Patriots' who only care about their own glory and fortune. I would blame them, not you."

"I care about what you think of me, Jeremy. I care about what Henry and Isak think, too. If I found that I had disappointed any of you as Arnold has disappointed me, I would end my life. I do not want you to experience this despair that has overcome me right now."

"Sir, you can't disappoint us. There is nothing you could possibly do that would reduce our esteem and love for you."

Lafayette looked down. "I can not say that I would _not_ do something like Arnold has done."

"Sir! You are a better man than Arnold ever was or could ever be and you have only just begun. Do you remember what you said to me after the trial of Elizabeth's captors? Even though I deserved your scorn for my behavior, you said that I could never lose your friendship because I had saved your life and because of the memory of my brother Robert and the sacrifice he made for this cause. Sir, you have saved my life countless times and the lives of my friends. I know you didn't do it for glory because you couldn't tell anyone about it without disclosing our true identities. I know you keep your activity with us even from General Washington. A lesser man would not be able to hold his tongue even if it meant our imprisonment or death. I think of my brother Robert every time I see you and I know he would be very proud of my service to you and what we are doing for America. General Lafayette, whether you stay here and fight with us or not, we will win this war and America will be a shining light for a new way of government in the world. I know you care about that, sir. This fight is not just about the glory or the fall of any one man."

"You lost your brother because you met me."

"Robert died doing what he thought was right. I am very thankful to you that, at least, before he died Robert knew I wasn't the lazy self-indulgent brother I pretended to be. Look at what you did for Isak's brother, Pompey. You gave him his freedom. Isak blesses the day he met you for that reason alone. And what about Henry's cousin, Edward? He was turned from a life of bitterness, if not death, by you. I have you to thank for my own life, and the lives of nine other innocents in Chester the day crazy Zanker decided to hang us all. You don't need proof of your selfless loyalty and commitment to this cause, but I can give you a very long list, sir, and that is just from the small amount of time I have spent with you."

Lafayette was motionless. "I do not know what to tell my countrymen about this treason. Arnold caused the death of many Frenchmen. I convinced them that Arnold was a great general who would stay the course if they would only lend support."

"Sir, with all due respect, this war will not be won by one great general, even General Washington cannot do it alone. Surely, there are wise heads in France that can understand that."

General Lafayette turned about suddenly and faced Jeremy. The general seemed oblivious to the cold wind blowing past him. He stood erect and tall…and sober. "Jeremy, you need to get out of this weather, you will come down with an illness."

Jeremy laughed. "Take your own medicine, Doctor Lafayette. Your friends want you to come down out of this wind and cold, now."

"Very well. I have very wise friends, I should listen to them."

"Are you talking reason, or do you just want me to shut up?"

Lafayette smiled. "You are embarrassing me to death."

Jeremy grinned and turning around, headed for the gap in the rocks he had climbed. Lafayette followed him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

When Lafayette and Jeremy returned to the horses, they mounted in silence and the group moved off south. Nothing was said during the four-hour trip to Stillwater.

Lafayette rode alone up the lane to the meetinghouse. His friends watched him from a distance as he dismounted and went inside. Several minutes later the door opened and the boys filed out with Lafayette. The boys wandered off in different directions, clearly headed home. Some passed the mounted men waiting in the lane, but did not speak. Lafayette returned to his friends.

"Did you tell them you are Lafayette?" General Wayne asked.

"No. They do not need to know. It would only create more trouble for Nathanael."

"You didn't ask them to join the army?"

Lafayette smiled. "No. Most of them are too young. They will do whatever their own hearts and minds move them to do."

"Then what the heck did you gain from this, if I may ask?"

Lafayette took a deep breath, he exhaled as he looked up at the sky contemplating Wayne's question. "I learned some new stanzas to Yankee Doodle, but I cannot repeat them to you when I am sober."

Jeremy, Henry and Isak laughed. Jeremy said, "You _have_ to teach them to us, General. It is _our_ song."

Lafayette smiled his dimpled smile. "Have I more penance to perform, Anthony?"

"No. that was it…"

Henry raised his hand cautiously. "Sir, General Greene wishes that you appear before him in Tappan without delay." Henry smiled timidly at Lafayette and shrugged. "I am only the messenger."

Lafayette grinned. "Than we best hurry back. I do not want General Greene angered by my absence."

When the men returned to the river road, they saw a barge docked at the Stillwater ferry, headed down river. The barge's captain recognized Wayne, hailed him and asked if he could give him and his companions a ride after he finished loading his barge with supplies bound for West Point. Wayne agreed. The men dismounted and boarded themselves and their horses on the barge.

"What are you doing up here in the highlands, General Wayne?" the captain asked. "Touring the battlefields?"

"Something like that."

"I fought at Saratoga with Benedict Arnold. Hard to believe that man has gone and run out on us."

"What regiment were you with?" Lafayette asked.

"Morgan's riflemen."

"Did you know a man named Newlin?"

"Sure did. He was a private in my company. Brave man that young Harry Newlin was. He died storming a British redoubt. He fell right in front of me. I had to tell his wife. She's down in Tappan now working in a tavern. It's a darn shame, it is."

The captain looked over Lafayette. "You're no Canadian. I can tell by your accent."

"I am General Lafayette."

The captain's face lit up. "Well, I'll be!" The man held out his hand to shake the young general's. When Lafayette offered his hand, the man grasped it in both of his rough ones. There were tears in the captain's eyes when he said, "I am pleased to meet you, young sir. I want to thank you for all you've done getting us help from France and coming back to fight with us. You're a good friend to this nation and to General Washington."

Lafayette smiled. "Thank you. I am pleased to be here."

"If'n you want I can take you boys up to Saratoga and show you that battlefield."

Lafayette looked at his friends. "That will not be necessary. We must return to headquarters."

"Suit yourselves."

"There is one thing you can do for General Washington, though," Lafayette said. Everyone looked surprised at the young general.

"You name it, sir."

"There are several crates of Madeira wine up there at the Stillwater Meetinghouse." The general pointed to the hill where the white clapboard building set. "Could you send a couple of men to retrieve them? They are smuggled goods. I think it would be best if we claim them for the cause."

The captain grinned. "Well, now that sounds like a good deal to me." He quickly ordered a couple of his workers to run up to the meetinghouse with a couple of wheel barrels. It wasn't long before the men returned with the crates.

The bargemen pushed the barge out into the current with long poles. Once in the middle of the river, it began to move south smoothly and quietly. The sails came to life and quickly filled with the wind blowing strong from the north and the large craft move swiftly downstream.

General Wayne and Lafayette sat down on a pile of bags of flour covered with canvas. "One day, Gilbert," Wayne said quietly, "we will know, you and I, what it feels like to beat the British decisively in the field. We don't need Arnold to show us how."

"Yes, Anthony. Wake me when we reach West Point." The young general appeared exhausted. He lay back and quickly fell asleep. The bargeman found some blankets. He threw a couple over Lafayette and handed the others to the other men. Everyone found a place to curl up and get some rest.

* * *

When the barge stopped at West Point, Lafayette awoke and rubbed his eyes. He had slept all night down the river. It was dawn and the light was creeping over the large cliffs above them. The blue sky above was streaked by gray pink tinged clouds. The snowstorm had passed, the temperature of the air was warmer. 

The group disembarked and thanked the captain, allowing him to get to the business of unloading his haul. They rode up the perimeter road that took them to the summit and General Wayne's headquarters. In Wayne's tent, as coffee was served to the weary travelers, Lafayette immediately set about writing a note and pulled out his seal to stamp it.

"What is so all important for you to be sealing this morning, Gilbert?" Wayne asked.

"I have a debt I must pay. Do you know the commander of the Maine regiment that is stationed here?"

"Sure. That would be Ornsley."

Lafayette folded the note and stuffed it in one of the leather gloves. "He has a man in his regiment whose name is Ansel Grouper. I must give these gloves back to him."

"Gilbert, they're just a pair of gloves for pete's sake."

"I would have been in trouble without them, Anthony. The private did me a great service in my moment of weakness. I promised I would return them."

Wayne shook his head and slapped Lafayette on the back. "It is your way, Gilbert. I will take you to his commander right now if you wish."

* * *

Major Ornsley delivered the gloves to Ansel Grouper as General Lafayette instructed. He stood and waited, knowing it was more than a pair of gloves he was handing the private. 

Ansel smiled at his commander. "Those are my gloves I gave General Lafayette when I didn't know it was him." Ansel reached for the gloves and started to pull them on his hands. It was then, he discovered the folded piece of paper. "What's this? A thank you note?" Ansel unfolded the paper and gasped as he read. "By all that is merciful, the good marquis has seen fit to write me a bank billet equal to twice my salary for two years." Ansel sat down abruptly on his hard cot. "Dear God in Heaven…the wife…the babies…" Ansel began to sob uncontrollably.

His Major put a hand on his shoulder. "The _good_ marquis, indeed."

* * *

General Wayne accompanied General Lafayette back to Tappan along with The Yankee Doodle Society. Lafayette told him he didn't need him to do so, but Wayne insisted. When they reached Tappan, they went immediately to the inn. While the others waited in the tavern, Lafayette ran up the stairs to change into his uniform. 

Sally walked up to their table. "General Wayne, I see you found General Lafayette." She chuckled. "Where did you have to go, Ticonderoga?"

Wayne's eyes widened. "Sally, let's just say we found him and leave it at that."

The barmaid shrugged and put a pitcher of ale on the table for the men with a bowl of cheese and crackers. When Lafayette returned down the stairs, all eyes were drawn to the handsome dashing young officer. His sword tapped his boot as he descended the stair much calmer than he had gone up. Everyone in the tavern, complete strangers to Lafayette, moved to shake his hand and say 'hello' to the young hero. No one asked him where he had been. As he sat down next to General Wayne, who offered him a tankard of ale, Lafayette held his hand up and said, "No thanks. I have sworn off alcohol for a while."

General Wayne laughed. "I figured as much." Wayne shoved the bowl of cheese towards Lafayette, who shook his head and pushed it back across the table. Wayne grinned. "Is fainting from hunger to be part of your strategy with Greene?

"I am not hungry."

Wayne shrugged. "You ready to face old man Greene?"

"He's no older than you."

"Yes, but relative to you we are both _old _men."

Jeremy, Isak and Henry chuckled.

"I have entertained these boys in your absence, Gilbert," Wayne said.

"Thank you, Anthony."

"Do I still have to follow your order to jump in the Hudson and swim with the fishes?"

Lafayette looked shocked at Wayne. "I said that?"

"Don't try that innocent act on me, Lafayette. You were not _that_ drunk."

"Anthony, I think of you as a brother, _mon frère_? Please forgive me. I never meant to hurt you." The young general looked mournfully at Jeremy, Isak and Henry. "I never meant to hurt any of you. I was not thinking straight. I am sorry I caused you all so much concern and an unwanted trip in a snowstorm." He looked especially at Henry who wasn't smiling. Lafayette dropped his head. "I said things I did not mean, I did things I should not have done, can you all forgive me?"

"Oh, now that's good!" Wayne smirked. "It might work on General Greene. And if it doesn't work…you always have the Madeira wine."

Lafayette looked up sheepishly. Jeremy and Isak busted out laughing, leaving Henry puzzled. They didn't stop laughing for a good two minutes.

"Gilbert, the way I see it," Wayne said, "you really didn't do anything wrong until you reached the Stillwater Meetinghouse. What possessed you to encourage those boys to rebel against their fathers?"

"The devil?" he suggested.

"Too easy. Try again."

"They told me their fathers were loyalists."

"Mmmm…better, but…if I put the shoe on the other foot and think about some loyalist renegade turning my boy against me, why I'd--"

"I told you I was not thinking straight. I thought of my father-in-law glaring at me with those judgmental eyes of his."

Wayne's eyebrows peaked. "You did it to get back at your father-in-law?"

Lafayette leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. "I have no excuse, Anthony. I cannot explain my behavior. I do not know what to say to General Greene or General Washington." Lafayette suddenly caught his breath.

"What's wrong, sir?" Jeremy asked.

"I still have to explain all of this to my father-in-law. _Mon Dieu_." The general put his head down on the table.

Wayne slapped the younger general on the back. "Don't worry, he won't kill you. You're still the father of his grandchildren."

"_Non_, the treason. Arnold's treason. I have to write Vergennes and my family and the King…_Mon Dieu_."

"Let Washington or Franklin do it."

Lafayette shook his head. "They have to hear it from me."

"Gilbert, that sounds like self-punishment to me. I don't think you need anyone's reprimand as you do a bully job of it all by yourself." General Wayne stood up and grabbed Lafayette by the collar pulling him up and off the table. "Come on. Let's not keep Greene waiting any longer. You've had enough practice."

* * *

At General Greene's headquarters, Lafayette went into Greene's office alone and shut the door behind him. General Wayne, Jeremy, Isak and Henry waited in the parlor in front of a warm fire. 

"General Greene won't actually yell at him will he?" Isak asked.

"If it were me, he'd be yelling, but at Lafayette, probably not. He is a volunteer after all. I don't think he will be sent home."

The boys laughed.

"I suspect," Wayne said, "Greene is filling him in on whatever story he told Washington, advising him on how to broach the subject of his disappearance with Washington and maybe discussing what to do to _still_ the town of Stillwater. I am sure he will also ask our young general _why_ he did it, if only out of curiosity."

Henry jerked his head up straight. "Ah! Now I understand the reference to the Madeira wine."

"Henry, I am worried about you," Jeremy said. "Has the cold frozen your brain? You are not usually so slow."

"Madeira wine is General Washington's favorite drink. General Lafayette can offer it as an atonement for his momentary…_slip_…into acting his _true _age."

"Mr. Abington," General Wayne said, "You're a pretty smart fella. I think you hit the peg on the head with that theory. Moreover, you are being very kind in your judgment of General Lafayette's recent behavior. I wish I could receive such kind judgment when I…_slip_."

Jeremy chuckled. "They just call you 'mad' and let it go don't they?" Jeremy said with his tongue in his cheek.

General Wayne laughed heartily. "I am only 'Mad Anthony' on the battlefield." The general picked at the loose threads of the upholstery on the arm of his chair. "I've garnered a few other 'choice' nicknames off the battlefield, which I do not care to repeat."

"One of those appellants must be 'good friend,'" Henry said. "You certainly were one to General Lafayette these last few days."

"Nah. I may have been the one pushing from behind, but it was you boys that brought him back. I was very impressed with your courage to face him under the circumstances."

"Jeremy's 'golden tongue' did the trick," Isak said.

"What _did_ you say to him, Jeremy?" Wayne asked.

"A little of this, a little of that, and probably way too much. I think he followed me off of Ticonderoga to shut me up."

Everyone laughed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

In a tent, across the river in New Jersey from New York Town, Lafayette sat on the opposite side of a small camp table from his aide, Sergeant Boggs. Jeremy, Isak and Henry were standing nearby preparing to leave for home. They had ridden with the young general to the camp of his new command as soon as they left Greene's headquarters. They found the two companies of infantrymen dressed in the new uniforms Lafayette had brought from France.

Lieutenant Grayson popped into the tent dressed in his new coat, breeches and boots, topped off with a helmet plumed in red and black feathers.

"My!" the sergeant exclaimed with wide eyes. "You look right dashing in that uniform, Lieutenant. I think the girls are going to notice you now despite your flaming red hair."

"Daniel," the lieutenant said, "why is it every time you pay someone a compliment it sounds like derision?"

The sergeant shrugged his shoulders as everyone chuckled.

"Careful, Sergeant Boggs," Lafayette said with a wink, "or we will hold you down and put a uniform on you." He turned to the lieutenant. "John, do you _feel_ like an officer in that uniform?"

"Oh, yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Much more than in those rags I was wearing. The men are all quite happy as well and praising you for it."

"Then I am quite happy, too."

"May I do anything for you, sir?"

"No, that will be all for this evening, John. Thank you, again…for everything."

"Yes, sir." The lieutenant turned and ducked out of the tent.

"Jeremy, you and your friends should probably head back to Chester. I am sure you are missed. I would not want to be the cause of your true identities being discovered."

"Yes, sir. I suppose it is time to leave. Will we be seeing you again any time soon?"

Lafayette looked up surprised at the question. "I really do not know Jeremy. I do not think General Washington knows just yet where this war is headed. General Greene is traveling south to try to clean up the mess down there. Maybe he will let me go with him… but then again…he is more likely to punish me by making me spend the rest of the year playing diplomat to the local aristocracy and begging for the cause." The general sighed deeply. "I suppose someone has to do it."

The general stood. He walked to the young men and embraced each one. He stepped back and clasped his hands behind his back. "Thank you, Yankee Doodle Society. I am glad it was you three that followed me, though I am truly sorry to have caused you such concern and trouble. I cannot begin to put into words what it meant to me to see your bright faces at such a difficult time. You are good friends."

"It was no trouble, sir," Isak said. "I would follow you to the ends of the earth, as young Thomas Thackery of Albany said so well at the Stillwater Meetinghouse."

The general grinned and dropped his head.

Henry squeezed the general's arm. "Sir, you are _our_ general, after all."

"Take care, sir," Jeremy said, "wherever this war takes you. You, too, Sergeant."

The boys saluted their general who saluted them back. They then ducked out of the tent, leaving Lafayette alone with Sergeant Boggs.

"You are free to go, Sergeant. I am just going to write some letters."

"Will one of those letters be the one you tell your wife about Arnold's treason?"

Lafayette grimaced. "_Oui_."

"Will you tell her of your little jaunt up to Ticonderoga?"

"Perhaps."

"Do you want to try it out on me first?"

Lafayette laughed. "I can not talk to you as I talk to my wife, Daniel."

The older man grinned. "I know. But you could tell me why you did it. You haven't said a word to anyone about why you felt the need to travel to Ticonderoga."

"Do you feel that I owe you an explanation?"

"No, sir. I just know from experience that it helps to talk about those things out in the open, so it doesn't eat at you from the inside out."

Lafayette sat down in a chair across from the sergeant and leaned back. "Daniel, I thank Providence for your experience every day. Do you think you would have stopped me if you had been in Tappan?"

The sergeant furrowed his forehead and peered hard into his general's eyes. "I would have tried, sir, but you know I can only give advice. I cannot order you about."

"You would have gone straight to General Washington and told him that his boy was misbehaving."

"Sir, I would not be that thoughtless of you or General Washington. If I were concerned for your safety, I would have followed you myself. The way I heard it, you didn't need me or anyone else. Colonel Seth Warren of the Green Mountain Boys told me you laid him flat on the ground. He couldn't believe such a skinny boy did that to him."

"He made me mad calling me a 'skinny boy'."

Sergeant Boggs chuckled. "Well, I hope I never make you that mad, sir."

Lafayette narrowed his eyes and peered at his sergeant. "Daniel, if you met Seth, the mountain man, that tells me you were following me."

"Only as far as West Point. I was concerned when you did not return to camp as planned. Are you avoiding my question, sir?"

The general sighed and dipped his chin down to his chest. "It was Ticonderoga and General Arnold."

"What was, sir?"

"I was at a dinner party when I was not yet eighteen, serving in the French Grenadiers at Metz. The Duke of Gloucester was there. King Georges' brother. He told of the gallant Americans who had stormed and took Ticonderoga from the British and dragged off the cannon to Boston. He talked of the boldness of Benedict Arnold in vivid prose. I could just imagine the man sitting tall and proud on his horse ready for the next adventure. I had to meet that man."

"That is what set you off to come to America?"

Lafayette nodded. "It was the seed. I am sure you think me young and impressionable."

"No, sir. Everyone was proud of Arnold for that day and for what he did at Saratoga. Why, old grandpa Gates would be sitting in a British prison right now. All those brave lads that were fighting for him would be dying in stinking prison ships, if it hadn't been for Arnold snatching victory from defeat at Saratoga."

"I wish he had never raised a hand for this cause."

"I know, sir. The treason is unthinkable, but you know Arnold was never given the credit or support he deserved for his efforts at Ticonderoga, or in Canada or Saratoga. Even Washington couldn't understand the pettiness of congress towards Arnold. It made Arnold bitter. Perhaps that led him down the wrong path out of anger."

"I am sure it did, Sergeant. But is treason ever justifiable?"

"No. It is not. It is only the explanation for Arnold's treason. His actions have erased all the good he did in support of this cause. He will forever be remembered as a traitor to his country. The lowest of men."

"There are people in my country including Rochambeau that thought me a traitor for coming here against my King's orders."

"Sir! They should know better now. If not, they will when it is all over. The French have joined this cause now. You have led them to it."

Lafayette looked at his faithful sergeant and couldn't keep the tears from falling from his eyes. "Daniel, I wish you had been with me. I felt so insufferably alone though I was surrounded by people, even friends." The general leaned forward, crossed his arms on the table and dropped his head on his arms. Sergeant Boggs laid a gentle hand on the general's arm and waited in silence.

The general said without looking up, "I have led King Louis to this cause, but I may have led him and his country to their ruin, because of my love for America and George Washington."

"Sir, that kind of pessimism is so unlike you. We will most assuredly win with France on our side."

"It is not the winning or the losing, Daniel. What we are involved in here will not stop here. How do you explain that to a King that believes himself appointed by God?"

"I don't know, sir. But I have faith in you and believe you will be equal to it when the time comes."

Lafayette lifted his head and laughed through his tears. "_Mon Dieu_! Now you sound like my wife!"

The sergeant grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

Lafayette rubbed his eyes to wipe away the tears. "I apologize for losing my composure. I know that makes you Americans uncomfortable. General Washington has told me so."

"My only discomfort is in not being able to help you, sir. I can tell you this -- General Arnold's actions have caused you to question your own purpose and loyalties, to doubt yourself, which angers me to the bone. If I ever get my hands on the man…." The sergeant drew his hand across his throat to indicate his intentions. "Sir, you will survive this and put it behind you."

"Sergeant, there was one thing I learned today, which might have made it all worthwhile."

"What's that?"

"I may have come here in search of youthful adventure and glory, but I have acquired a responsibility towards many like yourself -- Jeremy, Henry and Isak, all those men out there, and the countless citizens of this great new nation living, dead and not yet born. I promise you I will never betray your trust or run away from this cause."

The sergeant smiled. "I know, sir."

**The End**


End file.
